


Dragon Age Trilogy

by Connie_flint_125



Category: All Games, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age Origins, Video Games - Fandom, dragon age inquistion
Genre: F/M, Mages and Templars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-18 13:10:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 49
Words: 240,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4707146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Connie_flint_125/pseuds/Connie_flint_125
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We all have our Warden, our Champion and our Inquisitor; but Cullen was there for it all. What if he had his love through it all as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing of DA it all belongs to BioWare and EA Games
> 
> Also, this is SMUT don't read if you don't like sex.

ORIGINS

CHAPTER 1  
9:27 Dragon - Early Spring

“She is easily the most powerful mage in Kinloch Hold. She is, perhaps, the most powerful mage in all of Fereldan,” Knight-Commander Greagoir stood six-foot tall, steely gray hair and brown eyes that reflected years of pain. He wore his Templar armor with the ease of decades of use. The sword in sunburst upon his breastplate was in gold relief to mark his rank. He stood next to a much younger man with blond hair and blue eyes that held their own pain. He also wore his armor with the ease of use, although his was a bit shinier and less worn than the Knight-Commander's. Like the Knight-Commander he wore heavy-armor with a sword in sunburst on the breastplate; though his was in black instead of gold to denote his rank of lieutenant. They stood watching a young girl sparring against three older mages. Her dark auburn hair gleamed like sunrise in the candlelight, her green eyes were bright with joy, and her lips; which were the same color as her hair, were stretched in a wicked smile. The Templars were watching the sparring session to be sure no one was seriously hurt as well as to guard against the use of blood-magic.  
The younger Templar was impressed with her control. The other three were attempting to break through her shields and had been unable to do so. She was defending herself from their magic and attacking with her own magic quite easily. She gave a shout of laughter as a well placed fire-bolt of hers negated the shield of one of her opponents; she followed with a spell to encase him in ice, eliminating that opponent. The other two men hit her with lightning and ice simultaneously and as the spells hit her shields there was a blinding flash of light. Greagoir took a step forward in concern, only to stop when he heard the peel of her laughter.  
“You'll have to hit harder than that, sirs!” the youngster shouted at them.  
“Brat!” One of the men shouted back, laughing as well. The other man gave the girl a mock scowl and tossed a manna-bolt at her shields. From within the resulting sparks she tossed out a lightning bolt that split in two to overload their shields. As that happened both men suddenly screamed in fear and fainted. She dropped her shields and jumped for joy at having won the spar, and then she went to check that her ‘enemies’ to be sure they were truly unharmed.  
While the senior mages were critiquing her form the two Templars retreated a bit farther away.  
“Lieutenant Cullen, Bronwynn hasn't given me any reason to think she may be a danger; but she is very powerful for one so young,” Cullen nodded his understanding. He had seen enough in his three years as a knight of the Templar order to know that young mages were often more dangerous than not, due mostly to their inability to control their emotions. The Knight-Commander was right to be concerned since she was clearly powerful enough to take on three mages without exhausting herself.  
“These senior mages are not threatened by her or her power,” Greagoir continued. “Irving tries to keep her away from those mages who will give her trouble; but it can be difficult when she still has so much to learn.” Greagoir sighed as he said this.  
“There are at least a dozen mages that have, in some way or another expressed their desire for her demise or to have control over her.” The Knight-Commander watched the girl carefully as she planted her staff in front of her.  
“There have been incidents?” Cullen asked. He had transferred to this Kinloch Hold only a week before; he'd been sent here at Greagoir's request. He spent his first ten years in the Order near his home of Honnleath. He had spent enough time with the Order to know that mages could be very dangerous. They did not usually attack their own, however.  
“Several. I've had to put her in her own room with a lock on the door she can lock when she sleeps,” Cullen frowned his next question.  
“A little history, first, Lieutenant. Bronwynn came to us from the Amells when she was four, she is their youngest. Even at four she was frighteningly powerful. She was even more frighteningly intelligent.”  
Greagoir turned so he could see the three mages as they each showed the girl easier ways to use her spells.  
“We didn't have any trouble until she turned nine and we moved her in with the Apprentices. Apparently one of the older boys in that group was practicing blood-magic and we didn't know.” Greagoir's voice had deepened with anger.  
“We still wouldn't know if Bronwynn hadn't been able to prevent him from using his spells on her.” He looked at the younger man. “He attacked her the first night she was in the general dorm. She not only prevented him from raping her, she broke his power over the rest of the apprentices in the dormitory. At nine, she did this,” He took a deep breath and looked back at the now sixteen year old girl. “She did it without resorting to blood-magic herself.”  
“She didn't use blood-magic to break his power.” Cullen gasped in shock. He had always heard that only blood-magic could be used to undo blood-magic.  
“When asked why she didn't, at nine her response was satisfying. ‘Only weak, stupid and cowardly fools use blood-magic'. “Cullen laughed softly at that. That was a sentiment all Templars shared, that a mage said that at nine was an ironic coincidence.  
“She could have killed the boy, she literally threw him across the room to pin him against the wall. He hit the wall hard enough to break his back, paralyzing him. Then she protected him from the other girls in the dorm room; I heard her telling them he would suffer more her way. His scream is what brought the Templars into the dorm.” Greagoir shook his head as he thought about that night.  
“Bronwynn made many friends that night, but also many enemies. She hasn't tried to win over those enemies since then either.” Cullen turned to look at the girl as she began bouncing around the older men and laughing, he saw Greagoir smile at her enthusiasm and wondered, for a moment. Then his face grew more serious.  
“The second incident happened in the dorm a few months later, another apprentice attacked her. He cornered her in the dressing area for the girls, him she hurt with lightning. Now, one would think after two attempts to harm her, those who dislike her would find other ways to get to her.” Cullen nodded.  
“That would be a no, however. They did not learn; well, not completely. It was another year before someone tried again and after that I moved her into her own room. Then three of the journeyman mages tried to beat her,” Greagoir looked at Cullen and it was a hard look.  
“This is what worries me most, that so many of her fellow mages are trying to harm her. She laid them all out with her own fists, but they could not touch her. She had a shield in place the entire time.”  
“Then she should have been vulnerable to magic,” Cullen said. The Knight-Commander nodded his gray head in agreement. “Someone tried magic as well?” Cullen asked.  
“Yes, and she simply knocked him out. Her shields are very good.”  
“How many attempts have there been?”  
“Four more before she went through her Harrowing.”Greagoir looked once more at the young mage as she moved through her fighting stances.  
“And how long ago was that?” Cullen wondered.  
“She was ten.” Greagoir nodded in confirmation. “Yes, ten, the youngest in Fereldan. Most likely the youngest in all of Thedas, Bronwynn Amell is either the most dangerous woman in all of Thedas or the greatest cursed.” Greagoir did not seem to be joking when he said this.  
“There have been a total of fifteen incidents since her harrowing. I've known her, her whole life. She would be a normal child, if not for the magic in her blood. She follows the rules, mostly; she listens to her elders, mostly; she ignores the templar order, for the most part.” He took a deep breath as the three older mages took their leave and the redhead stood in the center of the field once more.  
“When she does seem to pay attention to anyone, there is usually a reason that ends up with her being hurt.” Greagoir finished.  
“She needs a constant guard. Someone I can trust to watch out for her, as well as keep her in check. Even with a locked door, I worry her enemies will still find a way to kill her.”  
“Just one Templar for a constant guard?”  
“You will sleep when she sleeps. That is the only time she is truly safe.” Greagoir told him. Cullen noticed that Bronwynn was now standing alone in the sparring circle, apparently practicing fighting a melee fighter. Her moves were fluid, and even in the leather armor, Cullen found that somewhat erotic.  
“Her room is supposed to be impenetrable as well as soundproof.”  
“How is that possible?” The Knight-Lieutenant asked while wondering why soundproof. Then his mind went down a different path and he had to force himself back on track.  
“First Enchanter Irving placed a ward on the door so that as long as it is locked no one can enter if they do not have the key as well as keeping anyone from knowing for sure if she is in the room. You will be given a key. Irving and I already have a key as does Bronwynn; there should only be four keys.” Cullen nodded to show he was listening.  
“I have had her quarters remodeled so that you are in the same room as her. You will have to learn her schedule – and hopefully you can keep up with her because she tends to move quickly.” The Knight-Commander turned to face the Lieutenant fully.  
“Normally I wouldn't put a knight at such risk, but I need to know that the girl will be protected.”  
“Why does this one mage warrant her own guard?” Cullen asked finally.  
Greagoir did not answer; instead he called Bronwynn to them.

Bronwynn Amell had noticed the Templars observing the sparring session. She had been sure to keep the display of power down, to keep them from worrying overly much. Especially the Knight-Commander Greagoir; he tended to get nervous when she used her magic. The other knight was new, she hadn't seen him before but she like the look of him. Blond hair and blue eyes and obviously fit from the way he stood in his armor. She scolded herself for noticing how the Templar looked. She forced herself to give her full attention to the senior mages as they instructed her in better ways to use her battle magics; it was always good to learn new techniques. Greagoir was probably giving the new knight instructions on what not to let her do, because she was only nineteen and a mage. When he called her over to them she had worked up a small sweat from her work practicing her melee moves.  
Cullen watched the mage walk to where he and the Knight-Commander were standing. She moved with a grace born of both youth and years of martial practice. Her armor clung to her curves and he noticed her breathing a little more heavily as it caused her chest to heave slightly. He began to wonder if he needed to find a brothel since he was so interested in her body.  
“Yes Knight-Commander?” Bronwynn greeted politely. He gestured to the lieutenant and she turned bright green eyes to his blue ones. The impact of his direct gaze startled her, she felt his blue gaze down to the pit of her stomach as well as warmth that could only be desire. She managed to hide her reaction by sheer force of will.  
“This is Lieutenant Cullen Rutherford and he is going to be your guard from now on.” Bronwynn gave Greagoir a startled glance.  
“Why?” She asked bluntly. Her youth was apparent in her confidence that she would be given a satisfactory answer to her question.  
Like Cullen; however she got none.  
“He is going to go where you go, child, get used to it.” With that the older man left them alone. Bronwynn watched him leave and harrumphed at his back. Cullen hid a grin at her obvious disgruntlement. Then he had to choke back laughter when she began grumbling under her breath at Greagoir's lack of trust. The laughter caught in his throat when she turned her green eyes back on him. Up close she was quite breathtaking. 'Too bad she's a mage' he thought to himself.  
“Soooo, do you have any idea why we're being punished?” she quipped. He heard in her voice she was joking. When he just shook his head she sighed overly dramatically and turned on her heel.  
“Well, I have a lot to do today, hope you can keep up” she called back.  
Bronwynn moved through the tower as if on a mission, and she was. She had five different mentors to meet with this day and she was running late due to Greagoir's insistence on introducing her to the new Templar. ‘He may be cute,’ she thought to herself. ‘But I don’t need to know his name. I don't need to know if his shoulders are that broad either, stop thinking about it!' she scolded herself. She forced herself to concentrate on her studies for the day. Cullen kept himself out of the way, simply watching those around her.  
Bronwynn moved through her day with an efficiency that surprised the Templar knight. She spent nearly forty minutes with each of her mentors and in that time she would discuss each lesson as thoroughly as possible before working on the lesson for another hour. Greagoir had been correct, she was brilliant. He could also see she was impatient, slightly arrogant and even rude. The senior mages were doting and typically ignored her rudeness; the younger mages fell in two groups. They either loved her or they loathed her. The ones that loathed her were quick to return her rudeness in kind; which seemed to amuse the girl. Cullen could see that those who loved her fawned over the woman. He was actually surprised at how many people liked her when he heard the way she spoke to so many. He assessed her body language and her voice. There was condescension in her voice, but it was higher than it had been at the sparring field, he watched her smiling and began to think it was a mask. Her body was tightly wound, like a spring waiting to release. She walked on the balls of her feet, her arms kept loose but almost in a defensive position and she seemed to be very alert to her surroundings. Cullen wondered what the Knight-Commander had not told him.  
They reached her final mentor and the blond Templar was surprised to see it was an older man wearing leather templar armor. She treated him with the same respect she had shown the Knight-Commander.  
“Knight-Captain Marline,” she greeted the man who was the Knight-Commander’s second in command. She made a gesture with her right hand and an elaborately carved ebony staff appeared in her hand.  
“I apologize for being late again today, how shall I make it up?” Cullen actually stopped walking to stare at the red-head. Other men of this one’s age she called by their title or their first name, with barely concealed condescension. Yet he could see that her body language with this knight was relaxed, if alert, and she used her magic with the same ease she had during that mornings sparring session. Even her voice was different; almost as if she were older. She moved more easily, he had to swallow once more and force himself to move forward again. He wondered why he was so fascinated with her body. It hadn’t been that long since he’d had a bed partner. He couldn’t let himself think about her as if she were a potential bed partner, either. ‘Even if I like the shape of her hips,’ before he could find a place to watch from so he was out of the way the Knight-Captain gestured to him, beckoning him forward.  
“You are a new face, Knight-Lieutenant,” Knight-Captain Marline said as Cullen stepped up next to the mage.  
“Yes, Serra.” Cullen answered. He waited for the mage to speak, to say something snide about his being assigned to her. She didn’t, though, she kept silent and Cullen wondered why.  
“Knight-Captain Marline” he pronounced it in the Orlesian, Mar-lean-a, though he was clearly Fereldan with his accent.  
“Lieutenant Cullen Rutherford” the two men shook hands, Marline using it as a test of strength; Cullen merely kept his grip firm. The Knight-Captain nodded his approval.  
“So, the Knight-Commander didn’t tell me my student was going to have a shadow today, do you have any idea why you’re here?” Cullen shook his head in the negative, when the Templar looked to his student the redhead was also shaking her head in the negative.  
“Luckily for you two, I do.” The Knight-Captain gave them a wicked grin and gestured for them to follow him. He led them into a medium sized out building where there was a very full late repast set up; more than enough food for the three of them to enjoy.  
“If you didn’t know I was going to have a shadow, Ser Knight, how do you know why I have one?” Bronwynn asked as she was truly curious as to the answer for both questions.  
“Irving, Greagoir and I have been discussing this issue for weeks. We could see that that your enemies were getting bolder. After last week’s incident; however, I gather Greagoir decided we truly do need to ensure your safety.”  
“Why?” Bronwynn asked. “I am no more important than any of the other mages.” Cullen was surprised to hear her say that, even more surprised that she meant it. This attitude switch had him confused.  
“Templars attack the other mages as well; I wouldn’t be the first.” She reminded the Knight-Captain.  
“You are, my dear, more important than you realize.” He sighed.  
“Your choice to support the Circle against the blood-mages and their lackeys is the reason there continues to be incidents such as the one last week.” Marline said and it struck Cullen as if he was placing the blame for her attacks on her shoulders.  
“So because I refuse to allow some abusive arsehole to use blood-magic to control when and where I’ll do him or her I am fair game? Because I defend myself from four Templars, after I have to kill two of them to get them off me, I’m fair game?” Bronwynn shook her head in disgust.  
“It is the way of the world, Bronwynn, not just circles.” Marline started to explain more when Cullen interrupted him.  
“But it shouldn’t be,” Cullen’s voice was as hard as granite. “No one has the right to abuse another, in any way for any reason.” Both Marline and Bronwynn’s eyes were wide with shock at his vehemence. Mages were dangerous, but they were people. Had a Templar attacked a non-mage there would have been dire consequences. She should have been safe from the Templars in this circle.  
“I agree, obviously” Bronwynn said in awe. Not even the Knight-Captain, Knight-Commander or First Enchanter thought there was anything wrong with her being attacked by other mages or even the Templars. Yes, Greagoir was careful to do full investigations, sure, but the Templars never got punished, most didn’t even get moved to a different circle and the mages were only stopped because she made it impossible for them to continue. To hear this new knight agreed that abuse for any reason was wrong made her a little less nervous about him. It meant she was less likely to be hurt by him.  
“Be that as it may, due to her actions in pointing out blood-magic use by other mages she has been targeted by the group that is encouraging the use of it. We have thus far been unable to find the group’s leader or leaders to prevent any more incidents.” Marline shook his head sadly.  
“You are still placing the blame for their actions at her feet,” Cullen observed with a seething anger that the Knight-Captain chose to ignore.  
“We have recently learned there are Templars who are either under their control or willing working with them, putting you at even greater risk.” He gestured to Cullen as he continued to speak as if there had been no interruption.  
“Thus the Knight-Commander found a Knight-Lieutenant with an exemplary record to watch over you during the day.”  
Bronwynn and Cullen looked warily at each other. Bronwynn could see he was angry as well as having heard it in his voice. She allowed herself to look more closely at this man who was going to be her constant companion for the duration. He wasn’t just fit, he was slender but muscular. Not the musculature of Byron, the Templar who seemed to lead the others in their attacks on her. He was blond, unlike most everyone in Fereldan, and his blue eyes were the blue of a winter sky after a snowstorm. His hands were calloused from sword work and she shivered slightly when her mind conjured the feeling of them against her skin. ‘Last thing you need is to start thinking about him and sex, he’ll be like the rest, you know that!’’ she scolded herself, but some part of her either didn’t believe that, or she was more broken than she originally thought.  
“Take the rest of the day to get to know one another,” Marline ordered. He waved to a servant who began packing up the food.  
“I think we’re dismissed,” Bronwynn said with amusement. Cullen agreed. The two of them moved back out into the practice field. He watched as she waved her staff out of existence. She kept herself to his pace even though she felt she was far too exposed at the slower pace. He walked next to her; neither behind her nor in front of her which actually made her feel safer. He was close enough to touch as well as close enough to block an attack with his sword or shield. They entered her room after he unlocked the door. The servant followed with the food to deposit it on the table in the young mage’s room. Cullen waited outside the door until she waved him in. He didn’t shut the door while the two of them took seats at the table. The long walk to her room from the Templar practice field had given neither of them any ideas for conversation. They stared at anything, anywhere but at one another. Well, Bronwynn looked everywhere else; Cullen took the opportunity to look her over.  
Upon closer inspection he could see signs of strain up on her face and in how she held her body. He could see the armor was practical, not ornamental and it had seen actual use; not just the dings of sparring or practice. If he was seeing it correctly, she had several scars from knife wounds along her side and one upon her left breast. ‘That is a shame,’ he thought to himself. She was slender, but not like an elf; she had curves where he liked them.  
‘Stop!’ he told himself. He wasn’t there to ogle the girl, or to even do anything with her. Yes he found her attractive, yes he could think of several ways to get that pinched look off her face as well as get her to move the way she had when they were in the practice field.  
He also needed to stop thinking about it as his own armor was getting uncomfortably tight.  
“Tell me about last week’s incident” Cullen asked to start the conversational ball rolling. He had to force his eyes to stay on her face when she looked at him. Then he couldn’t look away. Her eyes weren’t just green, they were the deeply emerald green of the trees in the Emerald Graves or the lush grasses of the Storm Coast. In them he could see just how troubled the girl was, how afraid.  
“Four Templar Knights cornered me in the storeroom,” He watched her force her spine straight; watched as she turned into the haughty girl he had been looking after all-day.  
“The ring-leader; Byron, said something about teaching me a lesson and putting me in my place,” she was attempting to remain aloof; trying to keep her composure but Cullen could see she needed help. He stood up and closed the door, locking it. He sat back down in the chair as before, making sure he remained relaxed and non-threatening. Bronwynn seemed to realize he was giving her privacy, a chance to speak her mind. She hesitated for a moment, but he was going to be her constant companion for a while, might as well let him know the grimy details.  
“Three of them grabbed me, forced me to my knees. I guess they thought that since I didn’t carry a staff I wasn’t dangerous,” she couldn’t stop herself from remembering the fear, didn’t know that it showed through her eyes and how her lips flattened out.  
“Byron … he …” she faltered. She couldn’t say this; she couldn’t tell this stranger what they had done to her.  
“What are their names?” Cullen asked with barely leashed rage. She looked up into his eyes and for a brief moment would have sworn he was actually a rage demon he was so angry.  
“What does it matter?” she asked. He leaned forward, making sure she could see his eyes.  
“I don’t care how many Templars and blood-mages you turn in for their crimes. I don’t care if the charges are trumped up. No one should rape you!” He shouted the last, but did not move from his seat, even though his body was tense as if he was ready to leap into action. That he meant what he said was clear; tears filled her eyes and the dam broke.  
“He didn’t get the chance to actually rape me,” She began, managing only for a moment to keep from crying. “I killed him and Jonathan which made Drass and Carroll let me go.” She told him everything, then. He was appalled to discover that she had suffered so much more than the Knight-Commander knew. He would find out how much the First Enchanter knew and he would know how it was allowed that she would only be allowed to sleep peacefully.  
Cullen understood why she didn’t carry her staff; it had been used against her repeatedly. She wore leather armor even to sleep in, even in the room that was set up to keep her safe. No wonder she behaved the way she did. Cullen had moved them to a two seat sofa she had in her room and pulled her into his arms as she spoke. When she had broken down into merely sobbing he held her loosely. He made no sounds, he didn’t try and shush her, just let her cry. When she pulled away he had to force himself to let her go, but he admitted to himself he had like the way she felt in his arms. Cullen handed her a cloth to wipe her eyes with. He knew the dangers of being involved with a mage, but he couldn’t stop himself from wanting this one.  
“And now they give me a Templar guard,” Bronwynn said while cleaning her eyes, the confusion in her voice clear.  
“Why would the Knight-Commander do that?” Bronwynn hated how young she sounded, how lost. Part of her marveled that she was trusting, not only a stranger but a Templar with this weakness. She recognized, however, that she actually felt a little better. Her chest wasn’t quite so tight and she actually felt her shoulders relaxing. He wasn’t holding her any longer, but he was still rubbing small circles on her upper back, the warmth of his hand was comforting.  
“I am not from this Circle,” he reminded her.  
“What does that matter?” she asked him bitterly. “Am I supposed to believe you aren’t like the others?”  
Cullen stopped rubbing her back and leaned away from her, offense clear on his face.  
“What?” She demanded.  
“Not all Templars are like the ones who hurt you,” he tried to sound gentle, but he was offended. She gave a bitter huff of laughter.  
“I have seen the supposedly ‘good’ Templars watch the others harm other mages and Tranquil, they stand by and do nothing.” She informed him with venom.  
“Marline says my actions are the reason I’m attacked, and he’s probably right. I will not stand by and watch others be hurt. I cannot allow it. Power is seductive, Knight-Lieutenant; as a mage I know that. ‘Magic is to serve Man, not rule over Him’” she quoted. “Nowhere in The Chant does it say serving man means allowing ourselves to be harmed!”  
“I agree,” Cullen said softly. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  
“I want to feel safe, ser knight” she whispered. “How can I feel safe when I have known nothing but pain from those who are supposed to protect us?” she asked him as she opened her green eyes, which were once again filled with tears. Cullen felt his heart pounding in empathy with her pain. He did not reach for her simply because she would misconstrue his intention, and truly he could not fault her for it after all she had been through.  
“I could swear upon Andraste that I will never touch you in a way you don’t want,” he said to the teary eyed girl. “You wouldn’t believe me, though.” He tilted his head to the right, away from the wall as he looked at her through thoughtful eyes. “You have no choice, you know. The Knight-Commander actually requested I be transferred here for this assignment.”  
“But why? What in Thedas makes me so important?” she asked. She was exhausted from having spent the emotions she had bottled up for so long.  
“I don’t know, Mage Bronwynn, but I want to protect you.” He took her left hand in his and squeezed her fingers. “You don’t deserve any of what you have been through; let me do the job I was brought here to do.”  
Mage Bronwynn looked at the Knight-Lieutenant Templar, attempting to see beyond the armor.   
“Take off the armor.” He blinked at her in surprise.  
“You want me to what?”  
“I want to try to trust you,” she said to him. “I can’t with the armor on, so take it off.” He blushed and though she thought it was attractive she didn't understand why he was blushing.  
“I will have to… uh… go into the other room,” he stammered. She nodded and pointed to the alcove that was his, although she looked confused. Cullen decided to comply without asking why she looked confused.  
He took about half an hour to get into his civilian clothes. Heavy armor was just that, heavy. It was also awkward when he had to reach across himself with one arm to undo the buckles underneath the other. Then he gave himself a quick wash up with the water that had been left in the wash basin. When he re-emerged from the area she was facing forward with her eyes closed. The sight of her made him to catch his breath, she was truly beautiful.  
Bronwynn held the breath she had just inhaled seconds before he stepped from his part of the newly remodeled room. He was stunningly handsome. She could see the definition of muscles in his arms from his work with his sword and shield as well as the weight of his armor. His legs were well defined also and she hoped she didn’t blush to give away where she was looking. She could feel that pool of heat in her lower belly again and she wondered if she was going to be able to control herself. Wynn had warned the younger girls against affairs until they were older since many forgot precautions against pregnancies. She realized then that his being a Templar was only going to matter when he was wearing the armor. Bronwynn did not notice where his eyes had been roaming, or where they lingered. She saw the reaction, however and had to swallow a groan. No, if he was going to react to her looking at him as if he was interested in her too it was going to be very hard to keep her distance.  
Cullen cleared his throat nervously and took another step forward, hoping she didn’t notice his erection. He willed his body to calm down, but it wasn’t listening to him. Bronwynn took that as her cue to open her eyes fully. Even out of his armor he was an intimidating man. Bronwynn watched him for a few moments more, letting her mind decide on how to view him, and she had been correct; out of the armor she could see a man – just a man – and since she knew he wasn’t a mage she could trust him. Or at the very least try to.  
“Thank you Ser Knight,” She whispered. “I believe I can find my way to trusting you when you are not in your armor.”  
“I can have unmarked leathers made,” Cullen said, having thought about it while changing. “If you think it would help, but I cannot go without any armor.”  
Bronwynn nodded her understanding. Indeed he could not, not within the Circle or out of it. It was a dangerous world after all. The mage girl sighed, suddenly feeling ten years older and exhausted beyond bearing.  
“I am suddenly so very tired,” she informed the blond knight. His smile was crooked and it made him even more handsome.  
“I’ll have a servant clear the food, you go to sleep. I promise I’ll keep watch over you.” He told her. She was certain she would not sleep, she was certain it would take her a great many days to trust he wouldn’t hurt her while she slept yet she found herself drifting almost immediately. Her thoughts before sleep claimed her were of him smiling just before his lips met her own.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So it begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Second verse, same as the first'

Chapter 2  
9:27 Dragon - 6 months later

“I really don’t care if you don’t like it, Ser Knight!” Bronwynn was yelling as First Enchanter Irving entered their quarters.  
“I am going to perform this ritual!” The redhead turned on her heel and walked to her room. Irving marveled that she didn’t stomp her feet as she did so. He chanced a look at the Templar who was her guardian and was amazed to see his face pinched in a fierce scowl. His body was tensed and ready for a fight and Irving stepped forward, speaking his name to intervene. When Cullen turned his blue eyes to Irving, they were so full of wrath that Irving took an involuntary step back.  
“First Enchanter, have you any idea how she got involved in this ritual?” Cullen demanded. Irving frowned himself at the tone of the knights voice.  
“She is quite capable of choosing which rituals she joins,” Irving informed the irate knight. Cullen shook his head in disgust.  
“The Enchanter performing this ritual has tried to harm her several times in the last six months, and he’s going to try and keep the Templars out of the Ritual room again!” Cullen was shouting now, but not at Irving, he was directing it toward Bronwynn in her room.  
“He cannot do so, I will not allow it,” Irving said, and his voice was soft compared to the ringing tones of Cullen’s shouting.  
“I imagine you think that matters to Uldred and his followers?” Cullen asked venomously. Irving frowned in confusion. Uldred may be ambitious but he had no reason to want to harm the young mage. She was no threat to his position within the circle.  
“Uldred would not…” Irving began when Cullen interrupted him.  
“Uldred would not harm the girl? You have been blinded by the man, First Enchanter,” he ground out from between his teeth.  
“Uldred has threatened her in my presence. Not with punishment or reprisals for misbehavior, First Enchanter, but with physical harm for simply questioning his instruction for a spell!” Cullen spat at the older man. Irving was unsure how to answer the younger man. They had been at odds since the Templar first approached him regarding Bronwynn’s tenure within the Circle. Irving had admitted that he had kept a lot of the trouble she’d had with the other mages from the Knight-Commander because he was concerned that the Templars would start being harsher with the mages. Cullen hadn’t taken the response very well. Irving couldn’t bring himself to believe senior mages were encouraging the others to hurt her or any other mages. Of course, Knight-Commander Greagoir often denied there was any wrongdoing among the Templars.  
“Uldred is a senior enchanter, if he feels she is being insolent…”  
“When is she not insolent to idiots?” Cullen asked him. Irving had no answer for that, for she truly was impatient with those she considered fools.  
“What is the ritual for?” Irving asked on a sigh.  
“Wards for the tower,” Bronwynn answered as she came out of her room in her leathers, a contrast to the knight who was wearing breeches and a tunic instead of his own leather armor. Irving was pleased to see she was once more carrying her ebony staff, he knew she was feeling more confident since the Knight-Lieutenant had been assigned to guard her. He didn’t know that the retired Knight-Captain Marline and Knight-Lieutenant had been working with her to improve her ability to fight with the staff as a melee weapon not just a focus.  
When her reply registered Irving frowned. Uldred did not deal with the Tower’s wards. Only Wynn and he led those rituals, Uldred did not even take part in them.  
“Is there something wrong with Wynn that I do not know about?” Irving asked in alarm. Bronwynn shook her head.  
“No, there isn’t. I’m running late, excuse me.” She moved to go around Irving only to find Cullen standing in front of the door. She growled in exasperation.  
“I am going,” she told him again.  
“Not until you tell me why” he spat. She covered her heart and gasped in mock surprise.  
“You mean you really want to know?” she asked as if it never occurred to her he’d care. Irving saw Cullen’s eyes narrow and his fists clench until they were white. Bronwynn swallowed but lifted her chin. She would not back down. He was going to have to deal with it; she didn’t need a babysitter, just a bodyguard. She had to make herself think of him as only a bodyguard because she was fast falling in love with the infuriating man.  
“Why?” he ground out. If he didn’t know better he’d think she was trying to provoke him into hitting her. Unfortunately for her he didn’t want to hit her, he wanted to kiss her senseless every time she lifted her chin in defiance. Which was almost five times a day lately, which of course meant that he also started thinking about other things he could do with his mouth. This meant he was spending far too much time thinking about stripping her out of her leathers and not enough time making sure she wasn’t getting herself in trouble.  
“You won’t like it,” Bronwynn then hedged, he didn’t usually push so hard, but they’d been arguing for over an hour and she was afraid he’d actually do something about her defiance this time. It might be a good thing Irving was here.  
“Why won’t I… no, what won’t I like?” Cullen asked. He was going to tie her to her bed, that way she wouldn’t drive him mad. Then realized that would drive him crazy in a different way.  
“Yes, child, what won’t he like?” Irving interrupted again, and though both heard the First Enchanter they both ignored him, watching each other with varying degrees of frustration and desire. Bronwynn took a deep breath to answer, but couldn’t find the words at first. Cullen narrowed his eyes at her once more and took a step towards her, forcing her to take a step back.  
“Well?” Bronwynn shivered, more from the rumble in his voice than the fear his growling at her evoked. She had spent the last six months listening to him through the wooden partition. She could hear him moving, stripping, bathing; she even knew when he was pleasuring himself. Six months of hearing his muffled shouts kept her from being as afraid of him as she thought she should be.  
“I am trying to get proof that Uldred is using blood-magic in his rituals” Bronwynn said quickly and much more softly than she normally spoke. She did keep her head up, but only because she was afraid to take her eyes off the angry Templar.  
“No.” Cullen had opened his mouth, but the word did not come from him. It was Irving who spoke the denial, he wasn’t about to have this young woman put herself in that kind of danger. She turned her green eyes upon him and they were shocked. Cullen, however, started smiling a very self satisfied smirk.  
“I don’t care what your reasons are for wanting to prove this, young lady, but no. You are not going to put yourself in harm’s way. If you crave adventure that much I’ll find something for you and your Templar to do that won’t get you killed because you are outnumbered!” The nineteen year old huffed and puffed herself up to her full five foot five inches height only to deflate when Cullen added his voice to Irving’s.  
“I am not letting you out of this room, Bronwynn.”  
“Fine,” she groused and this time did stomp into her room. Cullen and Irving both released a relieved breath.  
“She believes he’s the mage leading the young mages toward blood-magic?” First Enchanter Irving asked the knight quietly who merely nodded. Irving sighed in frustration. “I’ll have to show her the proof she’s wrong,” Irving stated sadly.  
Cullen shook his head but kept his silence. For the past six months he had seen how naïve many of the mages within this Circle were and it disturbed him to no end. Especially as the Senior Enchanters and the First Enchanter shouldn’t be so blindly trusting of one another. Of course the Knight-Commander was guilty of trusting the First Enchanter far too readily as well, but Cullen understood they had been in the Circle together for so very long it may have been difficult for him to see the danger any clearer than Irving could. He nodded to the First Enchanter as he left the room and relocked the door behind him. Bronwynn stepped out of her room again, this time in plain robes; she then proceeded to ignore the Templar. Normally Cullen found this behavior amusing; but today he was far more agitated than usual. It had been a very long six months. He had spent so much time learning the routine of the Circle, as well as his charge’s routine that he had not taken any time for himself other than when he was alone in his room. He chuffed a laugh at himself because when he was alone in his room he spent his time fantasizing about the woman sleeping in the next room.  
He could still recall the first time he’d seen her masturbating. He’d come in from one of his talks with Greagoir and she hadn’t heard the door open or close. He’d turned from locking the door when he heard a soft cry from the sofa in front of the fireplace. He’d taken a quick look but saw nothing when he heard another sound, this time a moan and then movement caught his eye. He took three more steps and was drawing his sword when he saw her lying on her back; her back arched and her breasts bare. His mouth had gone dry at the sight of creamy skin topped with strawberry colored areolas peaked with raspberry nipples. Cullen had stood rooted to the spot, his penis instantly harder than granite; his eyes had followed her bare arm to the junction between her thighs. How he had managed to not make a sound and disturb her he didn’t know but his manhood had begun to throb in time with her hand as she stroked herself. Her hips thrusting against the movement of her fingers, her head thrown back and rosy lips open and glistening from her tongue darting out to lick them – Cullen didn’t dare close his eyes or move lest he miss seeing her climax. His breathing had become harsher as she began thrashing on the sofa; when she cried out his name as she stiffened with her orgasm he felt the warmth of his own ejaculate. He waited out his body’s reaction and managed to get into his room before he heard her moving around in the living room. His nights since then had either been sleepless as he listened to her crying out his name in ecstasy or him waking up to need release from his own dreams of being deep inside her.  
He worried about her, worried that she was going to get hurt by the mages who wanted power beyond what they already had. He worried that he would be unable to help her when she performed the rituals she took part in. He caught himself fretting when the other Templars in the Circle looked at her askance. He did not worry she would use blood-magic or fall prey to demons. He knew she was strong willed enough to deny anyone or anything that tried to either offer or take her power. He did worry of late that she had developed a death wish.  
“I am going to take a walk,” Cullen informed the mage, who kept ignoring him. “Do not leave this room, Bronwynn,” he ordered. That got her attention. She turned to face him with narrowed green eyes.  
“I am not so foolish as to not recognize I’m safer with you around, so you don’t need to order me to stay put!” she snapped at him. It was the final straw for Cullen; he wasn't going to let her think he was so easily ignored or pushed. He took two long strides and was standing before her; he reached out and wrapped his calloused hands around her slender shoulders and pulled her to him sealing her surprised open mouth with his own. His kiss stole her breath as effectively as it stopped her speaking, their tongues met in an erotic battle that left them both breathless. Before she could do more lean into him, her hands just coming up to grasp his biceps; he set her away from him. His blue eyes were dark with desire, his breathing as heavy as hers; he cursed himself for a fool when her eyes opened. They were a deep jade from her own desire. He clenched his fists then opened them his mind racing furiously. He watched her sway to him and gave in; he wanted her enough to take her.  
His hands tangled into her hair and he dragged her mouth back to his to drown himself in the pleasure of the kiss again. She moaned and melted into his chest and lifted her arms to wrap around his neck. Her breasts flattened against his chest, he could feel the pebbles her nipples had become through his tunic and her robe. He shifted his right hand into the opening of her robe, skimming his fingers along the outside of her left breast delighting in the sound of her groaning into his mouth. Cullen slid his thumb around her nipple, lightly brushing the sensitive nub with the calloused digit. She tried to press her breast into his hand, a sound like please escaping her throat but he was determined he was going to take his time, he was going to enjoy her body today because he was fairly certain this was not going to be repeated.  
Bronwynn heard alarm bells in her head when Cullen first kissed her; she silenced them with a vengeance. She had felt bereft for the few seconds they had been separated before he kissed her again. Part of her mind was screaming to stop him, not to let him have this power over her, but the rest of her mind was drowning in the pleasure his kiss evoked. When his hand began caressing her breast, the calluses sent shivers down her body causing the heat pooling in her loins to rise higher. His thumb brushed her nipple and her body reacted with even more wetness between her legs. She didn’t hear herself say please into his mouth, but she felt his other hand slide down her body to the ties on her robes. She slid her own hands down his chest to the hem of his tunic; as he opened her robes, exposing her breasts to the cold air, she slid her hands under his tunic. He groaned into her mouth and yanked her hard against his chest, lifting her as he did so. She could feel the hard length of him against her abdomen, she sighed in delight.  
Cullen suddenly shuddered and set her away from himself once again. He didn’t remove his hands from her hips, though.  
“Bronwynn,” he growled; “Look at me.” She whimpered and opened hazy eyes to look at the man she’d been dreaming about for six very long months. Her chest was heaving slightly, and she was already covered in a fine sheen of sweat; as was he.  
“Why did you stop?” she asked breathlessly. He swallowed a groan at the sound. He remembered that breathless sound coming out of her mouth when she pleasured herself. He also remembered wanting to be inside her when she made that sound.  
“I have to know you want this,” He said. His own voice was husky with desire, he didn’t want to let her go but he couldn’t just take her. His conscience wouldn’t let him.  
“Maker, yes!” she exclaimed, and that was all he needed to hear. He slid her robe from her body as he lifted her into his arms. He made it into his room without tripping over the furniture, he laid her on his bed and devoured her mouth in a searing kiss that promised so much more than she could imagine.  
“Don’t move,” he commanded and began divesting himself of his clothes faster than he ever had before. Her eyes widened when his boots hit the wall behind him. She licked her lips in anticipation as his chest was revealed, narrow but chiseled from years of sword work and wearing heavy armor. Her hands clenched into involuntary fists when he dropped his breeches on the floor. Her eyes widened in fright, but he was beside her on the bed and kissing her again before she could make a sound.  
“Too late to change your mind, love, I can't stop now,” he breathed against her throat. He traced her body with his hands; used them to memorize the feel of her skin, the shape of her breasts. He reveled in her cries of pleasure as he tasted her skin with broad strokes of his tongue. Her breathing was heavy once more when he leaned away to stare at her breasts.  
“I have wanted to do this for months,” He whispered roughly before capturing her right breast in his left hand and gently squeezing the full globe, lifting the nipple higher for him to enjoy. He flattened his tongue and licked a long stroke over the raspberry colored skin. He chuckled wickedly when her hands tangled in his hair and she tried to pull his head down. Cullen took his time with her breasts, teasing her with lips and teeth and tongue before giving in to her demand for more when she screamed his name in frustration.  
Bronwynn squirmed beneath the man she had been dreaming about and wasn’t sure how much more of his teasing she could stand.  
“Cullen!” she shouted as she lifted her chest again in an attempt to get more of what he was doing. Her whole body was on fire and he had only touched her lightly, he hadn’t done more than tease her breasts, and her vagina was so wet she felt sure she was going to leave a puddle on the bed. He finally took her breast in his mouth, which did nothing to quench the fire but made her burn even more. Her fingers flexed in his hair and on his shoulder, digging in her nails. She didn’t hear herself saying please repeatedly, but Cullen did. Hearing her beg him to touch her made him even harder. He slid up her body once more to claim her lips in another kiss; he teased her mouth with his own while he trailed his fingers down her stomach to her pussy.  
Cullen groaned as the heat of her core scorched his fingers pleasantly, her legs fell apart without his prompting and he slid his middle and index fingers between her labia.  
“So wet,” he groaned. His fingers brushed her clit and she squealed against his throat.  
“Damn,” he whispered before moving his body between her legs, he sealed her mouth with his own once more; lifting her hips he was happily surprised to find he didn’t have to fumble to find her entrance. “Breath” he said to her, she took a deep breath and he plunged into her. She was so very wet, so ready for him that even though it was a tight fit his dick met no real resistance until he found her maiden-head. He didn’t pull back; he couldn’t have if he’d wanted to. He felt the thin membrane of skin tear under his onslaught and he kept pushing into her sheath until he was buried up to his balls. She stiffened under him and once he was fully sheathed inside her he held still to let her adjust.  
“Maker” he growled in her ear when he started to move after he felt her relax underneath him. He lifted her knees so her feet were flat on the mattress, she moved with him instinctually; although he would not let her increase the pace. He wasn’t so large a man that he was over endowed, but he was larger than most and she was taking every inch with every down stroke. She met him stroke for stroke; her nails digging into his shoulders.  
“Come for me,” he ordered as he slid finger and thumb between them to roll her clit between them. She arched her back, throwing her head back as she screamed incoherently. The walls of her pussy clenched around him even more tightly and he lost the battle of control for himself.  
“Yes!” he shouted as she screamed his name with a second orgasm that wound itself up with the first.  
They collapsed together, he wrapped his arms around her and they both slept.

************************************************************************************  
Bronwynn woke slowly to an intense pleasure between her legs. She reached down and felt the silk of Cullen’s hair.  
“Don't wake up Bronwynn,” she said aloud to herself as she tangled her fingers in his hair and lifted her hips to give him better access. She moaned when he slipped a finger into her passage and caressed the sensitive area just inside.  
“Oh, Maker, don't let me wake up!” she begged; then she heard a deep satisfied chuckle. She gave an embarrassed squeal and tried to pull away only to have him thrust his finger in more deeply while he sucked on her clit.  
“Cullen!” she demanded as she felt the orgasm sweeping her away. He simply chuckled against her vagina and lapped up her juices.  
Cullen took his time pleasuring his mage, enjoying the unique flavor of her, her texture. Cullen not only drank in her juices, he drank up her cries of pleasure. When both her hands were tangled in his hair and she was pulling and begging him; although he was sure she didn't know what she was begging for; he licked his way up her body to capture her mouth in a searing kiss as he thrust into her snug passage again. He gritted his teeth against the sensation, determined to make her call his name again as she orgasmed.  
This didn’t take long at all. She wrapped her legs around his hips, locking her ankles at the small of his back; which allowed him to go even deeper into her. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her small nails dug deep into his shoulders. Their breathing synced as they each tried to get the other to climax; a race they were both determined to win.  
“Cullen!” Bronwynn's scream echoed in the small room, her nails scored his back and she drew blood and Cullen didn't care. He held on to his control with bared teeth as she convulsed around him. He buried his head into the crook of her neck and shoulder; his hands gripped the mattress of the bed in a white knuckle grip as he rode her through her second orgasm. When she was limp and panting beneath him he wrapped his arms around her back and rolled them over so she was lying on top of him. He was still hard inside her and he had to fight the urge to move her on him.  
“Wh-” she licked her lips and swallowed, then tried speaking again.  
“What are you doing?” she asked, marveling at how full she felt with him inside her. He gripped her hips tightly to keep her from shifting.  
She started to contract the walls of her vagina, gripping his dick in a rippling motion which caused him to flex his fingers more tightly on her hips.  
“Y-y-yes,” she panted through the pleasure. He lifted her hips in an effort to disrupt her efforts only to gasp when she gripped the head of his manhood before he could pull out of her. She braced her hands on his chest, locked her knees at his hips and pushed down just as he pulled her down and thrust up. He held her tightly against his hips, his eyes clenched and mouth open as he emptied his seed inside her, she groaned as she felt him pumping against the walls of her pussy and he groaned as he finished and decided he was going to teach her a lesson, he used his thumb and forefinger to grasp her clit and roll it between them. He grinned triumphantly when she gasped his name and came undone once again. When she collapsed against his chest he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.  
He breathed deeply and allowed himself to smile in satisfaction as she wiggled like she was trying to get closer.  
“We should talk about this,” Cullen started, but she interrupted him.  
“No,” she laughingly answered as she snuggled closer. He still had her lying on top of him; he was still inside her, even though he wasn't hard anymore. She had never felt this content or relaxed in her life. He was rubbing gentle circles on her back.  
“We have to talk about this,” he started again. She shook her head and raised herself up to kiss him to keep him quiet. Talking about this would mean losing it. He'd want to set rules, rules meant there was something wrong with what they were doing and how she felt and she didn't need the reminder. She knew how it was. She was a mage, he was a Templar and it wasn't meant to be. It didn't matter how she felt. She didn't realize she had started crying.  
Cullen felt the wetness of her tears against his chest and rolled them over so they were side by side.  
“What's wrong, love?” he asked her as he gently wiped away her tears.  
“If we talk about this it won’t happen again” she whispered. He shook his head and kissed her eyes.  
“No, my love, if you are willing this will happen again, often” he said. She shook in argument and swallowed.  
“You'll want to set rules, Cullen. You're a Templar, I'm a mage.” She gave a bitter laugh. “I'm not supposed to have relations with other mages, or non-mages, much less a Templar,” she reminded him. The sound of her heart breaking was clear in her voice and it was killing Cullen.  
“I don't care if someone sees that I touch you, I don't care if someone sees you touch me,” he trailed kisses along her jaw to her mouth. She allowed him to kiss her, allowed herself to feel the pleasure of him actually wanting her. For only a moment, then she pulled away.  
“It won't work when the sun comes up,” she whispered against his mouth. Cullen sighed sadly.  
“Why are you so sure?” he asked her.  
“I'm a mage, you're a Templar. No, don't shake your head as if it doesn't matter. This,” she gulped and pressed herself against him, reveling in the feel of his skin against her own. “This is just lust,” she said softly. She felt as well as heard his growl of denial.  
“It is,” she insisted. “It has to be, because I can't keep you.”  
Cullen narrowed his blue eyes at the naked woman lying in his arms. He let the silence stretch while he thought about what she was really saying. She wanted to keep him and that was good because he was going to keep her. She thought her being a mage mattered, and while he would always be afraid for her safety he knew she wouldn't give in to the temptation of blood-magic or fall prey to demons. Her being a mage was only part of who she was, not all of it. 'Besides,' he thought to himself, 'she's my mage,’  
Her eyes were filling with tears again, and he couldn't stand the thought of her crying; for any reason. He wiped away the tears that started to fall with his thumb.  
“No, don't cry, my love,” he whispered to her.  
“But … “he shushed her with his finger.  
“No, we'll take it one night at a time,” he whispered still. She opened her mouth and he covered hers with his own. He kissed her until she melted against him moaning.  
“I'm yours until the sun comes up,” he told her. It took her a moment to understand what he was saying. Then she smiled shyly but wickedly up at him.  
“Does that mean I get to touch you now?” she asked him. He grinned back at her.  
“Yes,” he answered and was rewarded by her leaning up to kiss him. If he thought there was a bit of desperation in it, he let it pass. She'd figure it out; she belonged to him.


	3. Chapter 3

 

Chapter 3

9:28 Dragon – Mid Summer

 

Cullen Rutherford, Knight-Lieutenant of the Templar Order assigned to the Circle of Magi of Fereldan to guard one Enchanter Bronwynn Amell was ready to choke said Enchanter. She was standing in the center of the practice field working with several other mages and Templars on battle practice. She was also steadily ignoring him. She had been doing so for the last nine weeks. He wasn't quite sure why she was angry with him either. He did know that if she didn't get her staff into position he was going to thump her himself. Two of the Templars facing off against her today had it out for her. They were going to do everything they could to hurt her and he wasn't allowed to step in on the practice. He then noticed that the three mages, who were supposed to be on her side, were some of Uldred's followers.

“Damn it!” he whispered to himself. She was going to get hurt. Cullen glanced around for the First Enchanter and Knight-Commander or the new Knight-Captain Hadley. None of them were anywhere to be seen. He narrowed his eyes in consternation; if they were using his mage as bait he was going to have words with them. Words that were spoken with fists.

The first volley of the attack came from the mages opposite her group and he frowned against the flash of light as the fire-bolts hit her shields. The Templars had rushed in right behind the first attack, Cullen gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, his jaw tightened and he forced himself to stay still and not jump to her rescue. He had to trust she was ready to face any enemy. His heart was still in his throat as he waited for the light to clear.

Bronwynn had seen the Templars moving just as the mages let fly with their fire-bolts. Her shields would protect against both, but she knew that Cullen would have a fit if she didn't react at all. She was at her wits end with the man and didn't want him jumping to her rescue. She kept her staff loosely, waiting for the magic to flash against her shield. Once the fire hit she threw out her right hand to conjure a pool of grease in front of the Templar on her right. She swung the bottom of her staff up to block the first swing from the leading Templar. She felt the edge of his sword hit her staff; she dropped her staff down and to the right, bringing the silverite metal sphere at the top of her staff to bear against his helmet. She felt and heard the impact and sent a short jolt of lightning through the metal to knock him out. She used her movement to turn into the next attacker, forcing him to the ground and freeing up her staff again. She slammed her left palm against his breastplate, pulsing ice through her hand to freeze that attacker. That left the third Templar and four mages on the other side, and most likely her three back up mages.

The four mages then sent levin bolts at her, which she reflected back at them. Two of them leaped back to stay on their feet when their shields went down. The third Templar got himself out of the grease trap and lunged at her back with his shield, she had to twist and weave to avoid him, which meant the mages had an opening for their lightning to strike her shields. The flash was blinding and she used the distraction to get inside the Templar's guard and use a new trick she had learned to set the lyrium in his blood on fire. He panicked and turned away, running towards the mages behind her who had yet to attack.

Cullen's breath was shallow and quick as he watched the woman he loved move through the attacks. He prayed these mages that were lackeys of Uldred's didn't try and use blood-magic or summon any demons in this fight. If he had known that she was hoping they would, he wouldn't be standing on the sidelines. When she took out the third Templar he smiled with pride. The smile was short lived; however as the three mages behind her produced daggers and sliced thin ribbons into their arms, calling up three rage demons; towering naga shaped creatures with human arms made of lava. Before he could finish breathing in to call her name she swept her arm with the staff behind her and he felt the blast of cold as the blizzard hit the demons. Their bodies froze into ice crystals and Bronwynn swept her staff towards them in a flat arc, sending out a pulse of telekinetic energy that shattered the three demons instantly.

This must have angered or frightened the mages as all of them then called upon their blood-magic to summon more demons. Three more rage demons appeared on the field, followed by two large pride demons and a nebulous sixth demon. One of the pride demons looked directly at Cullen and began stalking towards him.

“Makers breath!” Cullen cursed as he drew his sword and shield. Bronwynn had to decide quickly what her next move was going to be, she couldn't take on that may demons alone, but Cullen couldn't help her. Then she realized one of the pride demons had been directed at Cullen and her heart dropped to her stomach. She couldn't lose him, not to a blighted demon.

The red headed mage called on her anger with and fear for the Maker benighted Templar and used the power to fuel another blizzard spell against the three new rage demons. The second pride demon smashed them to pieces when it swung it's huge arms to summon a lightning whip. She grasped hold of the fires that were dancing on the ground from the rage demons and threw it at the pride demon, engulfing it in flame. It dropped to one knee as it burned; although Bronwynn knew it wasn't out for the count she turned her back on it and the other demon and rushed toward the first pride demon as it swung it's scaled arm down onto the Templar Knight. The demon stood two stories tall with legs as round as oak trees and arms the size of of carts. It’s whole body was covered in craggy armored scales; like a mountain breaking upon one. She let out a breath in a relieved curse when the swing met Cullen's upraised shield and he didn't go down. The Templar then stepped forward to slash at the things left leg, demonic ichor sprayed through the air as he scored what should have been a crippling blow. He kept moving and Bronwynn's mind noted the power of his movement, the grace in it as he spun and struck a second blow to the same leg in the same place. She knew he a skilled warrior; he had taught her after all, but seeing him in action against a real enemy filled her with pride. That he wasn't going to let her fight the demons alone loosened something inside her chest she hadn't realized was wound so tightly. She wasn’t truly alone.

The thing roared in pain and Bronwynn used the distraction to throw a stream of fire at the demon shouting Cullen's name as she did so. He rolled out of the way just as the fire engulfed the oversized demon. Bronwynn dropped her staff and drew an ornate hilt from her belt conjuring a long sword blade as she then sliced through the things left leg in the same place Cullen had struck it, shearing it off. Cullen had also continued to attack and between the two of them they took it down in seconds; Cullen taking the killing blow.

They turned their attention to the two remaining demons and six mages. Cullen noted that one of the mages lay dead, probably from having summoned one of the demons. Bronwynn gave a shout that sent out tangible sound waves, knocking out the three mages in front of them. That left the three mages that were now to their left; Cullen broke towards them raising his shield to reflect their magical attacks back at them. When the three mages called up three more slithering, molten, towering rage demons; he was prepared and easily took them out with quick and concise strikes while using his Templar abilities to dispel the magic they were made of.

Bronwynn noted where Cullen was on the field, and drew in power from the area around her, channeling it into a solid stream of liquid ice that encased the still burning pride demon. She kept running towards it as she summoned her black staff back into her free hand while sheathing the jeweled hilt back on her belt. Taking her staff in both hands she slammed the silverite orb into the body of the demon just as it began to rise with a glacier snapping sound; forcing flame into the single spot. The demon went up in a geyser of steam and ice. Bronwynn summoned a hot wind to blow the chunks and steam at one of the mages who was himself getting up, he went down again and this time his head was bloody.

Cullen had taken down one of the remaining three mages by bashing the one on his left with his heavy shield. He took the second of the three down with a solid blow to the head with the flat of his longsword knocking him out; when the third one slit his arm once more. The remaining demon, which had been a nebulous cloud until then, engulfed the bleeding mage and swelled to twice its size; killing the mage in the process.

Cullen suddenly found himself fighting the desire to run as he was instantly filled with overwhelming fear. He realized it was the magic of the demon and called up his training. The fear receded to normal as he surrounded himself with his faith. The demon turned its face to him and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out. Before him, advancing on him with a death's head grin was Bronwynn; his mage. His deepest fear realized; that he would lose her to the Chantry's laws. That they would make her Tranquil for their relationship, or worse; they would believe she had used blood-magic on him and force him to kill her. This demon had taken on a form guaranteed to throw him off balance. He was not frozen in fear, but still, he could not act. He raised his shield to protect his face and head when the beast slammed its staff filled hands into him. He heard Bronwynn shout but didn't look. He kept his eyes on the monster in front of him. He smiled when his mage zapped the demon with ice and lightning simultaneously, knocking it back five feet. He didn't smile for long since it then teleported in front of her. He gave an involuntary cry when it slammed both its hands into her sending out a blinding flash of light. His heart froze in his throat until the light cleared.

Bronwynn used the energy of the demon’s attack to throw out a domed shield between Cullen and herself and the demon. She didn't know what Cullen was seeing, but she saw herself, in full glory and power. She was a mage and she knew what she feared, herself. She smiled wickedly at her doppelganger and then laughed when it stumbled.

“You will not win this,” The fear demon hissed at her as it attempted to pump itself up, to make her afraid.

“The thing about fear is,” here she paused and watched as the demon shrunk in upon itself. “It always appears to be larger than the actual size.” Bronwynn hit the reduced demon with a small fire bolt and it shrieked as it died. She dropped the shield she had raised to cut the demon off from whomever else it may have been feeding from. Then Cullen was suddenly in front of her, kissing her as if she were his only reason for living. She sighed and melted into him, forgetting for a brief moment where they were. His body felt right against hers, and the warmth of his arms seeped into her where she was chilled from after effects of combat.

“Are you all right? Are you hurt?” he asked her urgently after breaking off the kiss. His hands were roaming everywhere they could reach easily as he checked for injuries. She laughed breathlessly at his concern.

“I am fine, Cullen. I took no injuries.” She tried to assure him, but he wasn’t trusting her word.

“I saw Darrin hit you, where’s the injury?” He was checking her side, seeing no blood or damage he turned her to check her back.

“Cullen, my heart, he didn’t get through my shields,” She laughingly reminded him. Cullen turned her to face him again, clamping his lips on hers in another possessive kiss. This kiss lasted longer and he held her just a little tighter.

Cullen heard someone clearing their throat and ignored them. She was safe, there were no injuries, and he wasn't letting her go. Then he heard the Knight-Commander call his name. He growled angrily when he did. Shoving his mage behind him he stepped forward and landed a solid blow to the Knight-Commander’s jaw. Both Bronwynn and First Enchanter Irving gasped in shock.

“Templar!”, “Cullen!” they shouted simultaneously. Bronwynn leaped forward to grab Cullen’s arm as he pulled back for a second swing, this time at Irving. He stopped when he felt her weight against his biceps.

“You put her in that position a purpose!” He shouted down at Irving while allowing her to pull his arm down. His rage clear in the ruddiness of his skin and the spittle flying from the corners of his mouth. He went cold, however, when she answered him

“Yes, we did.” Her simple and straightforward answer was delivered calmly in contrast to his rage. He turned burning blue eyes to clear green ones.

“You agreed to this insanity?” he demanded softly. When she nodded once he swore again. She released his arm when he turned to face her then away again.

“They were trying to kill you!” he shouted, the Knight-Commander had stood back up with an expression like thunder. Cullen turned toward him, his anger rising to the fore once more.

“You let her put herself in danger! After all you’ve done to protect her?” Bronwynn placed herself between the older men and her lover. Her eyes were pleading with him to stop, she mouthed trust me and although he wanted nothing more than to beat his commander to a bloody pulp he raised his hands and nodded at her. He then turned on his heel at stormed into the tower; leaving Bronwynn to face the two older men alone. She repressed an aggravated sigh and turned to face them.

Knight-Commander Greagoir had narrowed his faded blue eyes at the young red haired mage in deep suspicion. Irving had an amused smirk on his wrinkled face. Bronwynn opened her mouth to say something about her opponents, some of whom were just starting to come around. Bronwynn waved a hand towards the field and the sent out a sleep command to keep them from attacking yet again and then started to speak again when Greagoir interrupted her.

“How long have you been sleeping together?” he demanded. Bronwynn was happily surprised that she didn’t blush. That would have just confirmed his accusation.

“That is what you are going to focus on?” Bronwynn asked, managing to sound incredulous instead of defensive. She looked at the Knight-Commander with clear disdain. He glowered at the young woman long enough for her to stop being haughty.

“We have more pressing matters, Knight-Commander…” Bronwynn started to say only to be interrupted again.

“How. Long?” Greagoir asked, sounding very much like an angry father. Irving shook his head but held his tongue.

“We aren’t sleeping together, Knight-Commander,” Bronwynn informed him. It was the truth, as far as it went. She had gone back to her own room nine weeks ago; after he asked her what spell she had put on him to make him feel the way he did.

“That kiss,” Irving said with amusement, “was the kiss of a long time lover, Enchanter Bronwynn.”

“Well it certainly surprised me,” Bronwynn admitted. Also the truth, as he had never kissed her in public. He knew they were being watched and he’d kissed her anyway. His kisses had always heated her blood, but him actually showing he was attracted to her – that had done more than curl her toes. A year after he promises her they'd take it one night at a time that was still all it was. One night at a time. He'd even begun wearing his heavy armor again. He seemed to expect... something; she just didn't know what.

She certainly wasn’t going to let either of these two men know that she was head over feet in love with him. They would most likely take him away from her and after that kiss… well she wasn't ready to let go just yet.

“Yet you ..." Greagoir started to say when Irving placed his hand on the Templar’s shoulder.

“Let it go, Greagoir,” the Enchanter said. The Knight-Commander clearly wanted to pursue the issue, but let it go since they did have larger concerns.

“I will address this with Cullen,” he intoned. Bronwynn had a feeling that conversation wasn't going to go as well as he intended.

“Apparently Uldred has more followers than I suspected,” Bronwynn said, choosing to ignore the previous statement.

“I am surprised they risked the blood-magic with Knight-Lieutenant Cullen watching,” Irving added. Bronwynn shuddered when she thought about that pride demon going after him. Had he not had his sword and shield, it didn't bear thinking about.

“So we know his reach is greater than I thought.” Neither Greagoir nor Irving had wanted to believe that the mages and Templars she had named; which were the ones she had fought today, were actually blood-mages. That the mages were all sycophants of the Senior Enchanter was well known. The Templars were more of a surprise for both elder men. Bronwynn of course also knew that the younger generations weren’t taking so much of the Chant as the gospel the older generations did. Templars were showing sympathies towards mages that shared their world view. Mages were actually trying to make friends with the Templars.

“I am disappointed in the Templars choices,” Greagoir said sadly. He walked over to the bodies of the Templars. Bronwynn had used her magic efficiently; she had taken them down quickly and with little fuss. Then he saw they were all still breathing. He looked up at the girl he did consider a daughter in amazement.

“They still live?” He asked.

“Cullen has reminded me repeatedly that ‘a spar is not a fight and I should not kill my opponents out of hand’,” she sounded like she was saying this by rote. Greagoir smiled slightly at that. Perhaps he shouldn’t be so upset if they had become a couple. His Knight-Lieutenant had certainly made sure she could protect herself. That was above and beyond what he had assigned to the younger Templar.

Irving frowned slightly; he had not known the Templar had been teaching her fighting techniques. He didn’t like the thought of any of his charges learning more than combat magics; but after watching her face off against the blood-mages and their Templar protectors; perhaps it was an idea for the other mages. He had noticed her confidence had grown over the last year. Perhaps they had simply needed to teach her to defend herself. Of course that would mean the Templars would need to allow the mages to use magic to do so.

“They are all sleeping,” Bronwynn told them.

“Will they answer truthfully when questioned, Irving?” The Knight-Commander asked. He only asked as a courtesy, and the First Enchanter knew this. Irving would have no input or action for the questioning of these mages and Templars.

“Do you need me for anything more?” she asked them. They shook their head and she took her leave. She leaned against the inside of the door while she had a moment’s grace. She couldn't walk through the halls with this fear clear on her face or in her stance. She was fairly certain that Cullen wasn't waiting to walk her to their quarters today. He had been shadowing her less and less over the last few months; her ability to defend herself improving so much over the last year that former Knight-Captain Marline had insisted the Templar give her room to breathe and he had reluctantly done so. Today she could wish otherwise. After counting to a hundred she took a deep breath and schooled her features into placidity then stepped out of the alcove and into the hallway to make her way up to her quarters.

No one yet knew of the happenings in the practice field, so no one thought it strange she looked so calm. She opened the door to her living space and stepped through; only to have the door jerked out of her hand and slammed behind her. She felt the magics of both the warding and the silence spells taking effect as the door was locked. She swung around, pulling her staff into a defensive position before seeing Cullen standing there with his back to the door and wrath in his eyes. Her heart was pounding as well as racing from the fright and she had cut off a scream of fear when she saw it was her lover.

She dropped her staff to cover her mouth with both hands before bolting to the water closet where he could hear her vomiting. Her reactions forced him to calm down somewhat. He wet a cloth in the washbasin and went into the closet with her. He pulled her hair away from her face and off her neck, placing the cool cloth on the back of her neck. He made no sounds and simply held her hair while rubbing her back. He wanted to shake her, wanted to scream at her for putting herself in that dangerous situation. He wanted to chain her in the room so she couldn't leave and risk that kind of danger again.

He also wanted to praise her for having kept her cool throughout the whole ordeal, wanted to kiss her again because she was safe and most of all he wanted to strip her and check every inch of her to be sure she was uninjured.

She finally stopped vomiting and leaned against his legs. He gave her another cloth to wash her face with and then carried her into his room to lie her on his bed. She was too weak to protest and she felt warm tears rolling down her chilled cheeks when he helped her sit up to rinse her mouth out.

Cullen then began undressing her, and although he wanted to examine her thoroughly he didn't. When he slid into the bed next to her she curled into him and began sobbing. He swallowed his anger then; he couldn't stand to hear her cry.

“Hush my love, shh;” he wrapped his arms tightly around her, pulling her mostly onto his chest. She began shaking violently in his arms in delayed reaction to the fighting. He could hear her reciting the Chant of Light in an effort to calm herself down. He picked up the Chant with her, slowing down her rhythm to slow down her breathing to help her calm down. When her body fully relaxed against him he heard her breathing even out into sleep.

“Ahh, Maker, my love; you scared the shite out of me,” he whispered into her hair as he kept stroking her back.

They lay together that way for an hour before there was a banging on the main door. When she started awake he shushed her with gentle kisses until she relaxed again.

“Stay here, I'll deal with it,” he told her. She clung tightly to him for a brief moment before nodding and curling into a tight ball. He repressed a growl of frustration as he left to answer the incessant banging.

He didn't answer the door as he wanted, and it was a good thing as his Knight-Commander was the one banging the door. He did however narrow his blue eyes into a glare as he stepped aside to let his superior in. He locked the door once more to prevent anyone outside from hearing the conversation.

“Where is she?” Greagoir demanded without preamble as he looked around the main room.

“Sleeping,” Cullen answered shortly. He wasn't going to give the older man an inch more than he deserved. Putting his mage in that kind of a dangerous situation had more than pissed him off.

“Which room?” Greagoir asked, thinking he'd get Cullen to admit she was in his room. Cullen merely pointed. Greagoir had never been in these quarters, he didn't know how the two of them made their sleeping arrangements. Cullen's room wouldn't look like a Templar's sleeping quarters either, as Bronwynn had half of her clothing strewn all over the furniture. It drove him crazy normally, right now he was amused by it since it wouldn't give the man the answer he was looking for.

Greagoir looked through the open door and frowned. Then he shut the door and turned to the young lieutenant, he waited in silence while watching the younger man. Cullen simply stood where he was in a relaxed stance, even if his arms were crossed and his eyes were narrowed in anger. The younger man simply waited as did the older. Greagoir sighed and shook his head; clearly he wasn't intimidating the lieutenant.

“Are you sleeping with her, boy?” Greagoir asked bluntly, he knew the Knight-Lieutenant wouldn't outright lie.

“No,” Cullen answered, and then forced his tongue to stay silent. It was the truth. He hadn't slept with her in nine weeks. Today was the first he'd kissed her in nine weeks; the first he'd touched her at all in nine weeks. How he had survived nine weeks, he wondered to himself.

Greagoir wasn't satisfied with that answer, obviously for he went from concerned but frustrated uncle to angry superior immediately.

“Don't play semantics with me boy, have you had sex with the mage or not?” He did not shout this question, although he wanted to. He knew the mage needed to sleep; otherwise Cullen would not have let her do so. After the kiss he and Irving witnessed; as well as Cullen having assaulted a senior officer, they would most likely still be arguing.

Cullen shrugged to himself; he had guessed the Knight-Commander wouldn't let it pass. He had an unusual interest in the young mage.

“We have” he answered, waiting out the Commander once more. He would give the man nothing more than he had to.

“Cullen,” his commanding officer sighed, shaking his head. “I need to be sure ...”

“You need nothing, Knight-Commander,” Cullen interrupted. “I wanted her within moments of her opening her mouth,” Cullen admitted to the older man, feeling somehow freer for the admission. “I wouldn't have touched her if she weren't willing” He dropped his arms, clenching his fists and changing his stance to prepare for a fight he wanted.

“She is a mage, Templar...”

“Yes, she is a mage, and a researcher, also a botanist. Did you know she studies languages as well, she's written three different papers on the similarities between Tevinter and Orlesian and Nevarran in the last year alone. Enchanter Bronwynn would rather work with plants than deal with the human race. I suspect she would rather be around plants than any people.” Cullen narrowed his eyes at the older man who wanted to play father to a woman he clearly considered second class.

“She thinks blood-mages are fools because they have all the power they need but still want more; and she wishes there was better training here in Fereldan because she believes that would curtail most mages' need to feel more powerful. Her heart breaks every time a young mage is made Tranquil because she believes there is a better way but no one is willing to look for that better way,” Cullen's voice had risen as his ire had heated up again.

“She is terrified, not of her magic, but of those around her who think she's nothing because she has magic. My mage has night terrors because you and Irving did nothing until she was nineteen to protect her,” Cullen's face was inches from the Knight Commander's as he spat the last. “And now you want to say you need to be sure she hasn't used blood-magic on me; to be sure I haven't been compromised!” Cullen shook his head in disgust. “My mage would rather be made Tranquil than risk me being kicked out of the Order,” Cullen sneered at the older man. “And I would gladly give it up to take her somewhere she wouldn't have to fear being harmed, if such a place existed.”

“And do you expect to marry the chit?” Greagoir asked

“Yes, if she'll have me, I do” Cullen answered. “Do I know the Chantry and the Order will forbid it, absolutely. I also know I love her, and whatever you may want to say on the matter has no bearing on that.”

There was a tense silence as the two men glared at one another.

“I will be sending her to another circle,” Greagoir started to say when Cullen interrupted him once again.

“No, you will not.” Greagoir frowned at the Templar. “If you were going to send her to another circle you would have done it years ago for her safety. You wouldn’t have called in a favor to have a newly promoted Lieutenant transferred to Kinloch Hold to guard one single mage,” Cullen answered matter of factly.

Greagoir sighed because the Knight-Lieutenant was correct, he wouldn't be moving either one of them. After this morning’s exercise the girl would be even less safe.

“You swear she has done nothing; cast no spell, used no charms; she has done nothing to alter your thinking?” Knight-Commander Greagoir asked softly.

“I do, although it is unnecessary. Bronwynn would rather die than attempt to control another. Even you should know this, Ser.”

“Aye,” Greagoir conceded. He sighed once more and looked at the younger man. He decided against attempting a lecture on the dangers since clearly the Templar knew them. Whether this would turn out to harm either the mage or the knight all of them would have to wait and see.

“When she wakes the two of you need to bring me your reports of what happened this morning,” he shook his head again. “The Templars are disavowing all knowledge of how they came to be there.” Cullen snorted in disbelief. Greagoir smiled in wry agreement.

“I know Bronwynn has a way of knowing if there is actual blood taint in someone's aura, I'll need her to come check.” Cullen nodded his understanding. Greagoir walked to the door, noticing then that it was locked.

“I didn't want everyone outside to hear me being as disrespectful as I knew I was going to be.” Cullen said as he unlocked the door. The older Templar chuckled in response.

“I appreciate the thought, Knight-Lieutenant. I also appreciate your not hitting me again,” Cullen didn't apologize or show any remorse.

“You may have gotten Bronwynn's agreement on that fiasco this morning, but you could have gotten her killed,” Cullen's voice was soft, the anger still prevalent. “I won't lose her, Knight-Commander,” Greagoir could see that his Knight-Lieutenant was in love with this mage and he could only hope neither suffered for it. Greagoir nodded his understanding and left the room. Cullen locked it behind the older man and turned back towards the bedrooms. Bronwynn was standing there, wearing one of his under tunics, the sight of her sleep tousled and in his clothes turned him on in ways he didn't know he could get excited about.

He was about to speak when she ran across the room and threw herself into him. He caught her and held her tightly when he heard her sobbing again.

“I thought that d-d-de-demon was going to kill you!” she sobbed into his chest. “I was sure I was going to lose you before,” she gasped breath, wrapping her arms tighter around Cullen's neck, as if trying to crawl inside his skin.

“Before what, my love?” Cullen asked quietly, trying to sooth her fear.

“Before I could tell you what an idiot you were,” she was shaking with her sobs now and Cullen had picked her almost dropped her when she said that.

“What?” he asked incredulously. He moved them to the sofa in front of the fireplace and sat down with her on his lap.

“I was so angry with you,” she said into his neck now, her sobs coming harder. He wrapped her more securely in his arms trying to calm her as well as warm her up; she was very cold.

“I knew you were angry with me, just not why,” he said to her as he reached over for the blanket that was on the sofa. He wrapped them both in the soft fabric that was also warm from its exposure to the fire. She quickly began to warm up which helped her stop shivering and helped her calm down.

“Really?” she asked him, looking up into his face from where he had her bundled. “You don't know why I was angry with you?”

“Really,” he grinned crookedly and placed his forehead against hers. “I just knew that was why I was sleeping alone,” he said laughingly. She grinned sheepishly and he kissed her softly. “Why were you angry with me, love?” he asked. She shivered from the gentleness in his voice. She knew he was angry, knew he had been worried about her and knew he probably wanted to shake her senseless.

“You asked me what magic I had used on you to make you 'feel this way'” she said. He sucked in a breath and closed his eyes.

“Maker's breath, I'm an idiot” he said in response. She gave a soft laugh and nodded her head in agreement. “You don't have to agree so quickly,” he laughed against her lips before kissing her softly again.

“You didn't even ask me why I wasn't sleeping with you,” she mumbled in disgruntlement.

“I thought you'd tell me when you were ready,” he admitted. She just shook her head.

“I had to have been trying to make a joke,” he said. He laid his back against the cushion of the sofa, closing his eyes.

“I got angry because I had told you I loved you the night before,” she said, laying her head on his shoulder. She didn't see him smile in remembrance. Then he frowned, she had told him she loved him; and the next night he slept alone. Why hadn't he tried to get her back in his bed, because he hadn't tried.

“I,” he stopped. He could say nothing to excuse himself.

“When a week had passed and you said nothing about me going back into my room, said nothing about me not speaking to you; when you didn't try and get my attention,” she drew in a deep breath and he could hear the tears threatening again. “I thought that meant you really thought I had tried to use magic on you to make you want me,” He closed his eyes and held her closer to him when he thought about what he had done to her.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered into her hair. “I have no idea what in the abyss could have made me treat you like that,” he admitted. Then he temporized. “Well, other than fear.”

She frowned in confusion.

“You're fearless,” she said, and he laughed at her naive certainty.

“No, love, I am not fearless” he said. He thought about how long it had taken him to get annoyed with her not speaking to him, with her not in his bed. He ran his fingers through her long red hair as he thought about it.

He knew; had known for months, even, that he loved her. Cullen had no doubts about that; but he did have to admit that she was his first love. She is a mage, he is a Templar; his duty is to watch over mages, protect them from themselves, from the non-mages and to protect others from them.

“I know my duty,” he said aloud to her, felt her nod. “I am proud to be a Templar, have always wanted to be one,” he admitted. He heard her giggle and liked the sound.

“Somehow, I knew that,” she responded. He smiled at that.

“I also know I love you,” he said and felt her still in his arms. He looked down to see her looking at his face. “I do, mage, I love you” he reiterated. “I just don't know what I was doing not telling you,” he admitted. “I guess I thought I was showing you.”

Bronwynn Amell shifted until she was sitting on the sofa with her legs across her Templar and considered what he'd said. She knew she was young; she'd only just turned twenty. She also knew she loved him and since she loved him she had to give him the benefit of a doubt. He was being honest with her, that much she knew. She could respect that he hadn't realized what he was doing and how it appeared to her or how it made her feel.

“I could have spoken up, too.” She offered, and his own body relaxed when he realized she wasn't going to ignore his offering of the truth. “I could have told you that you're not showing me any preference when the sun was actually up hurt me. I could have reminded you that the armor,” he kissed her gently again.

“So, we should perhaps try talking a little more often,” he said. “I think I can guess what I was and was not doing to hurt you, my love.” he said when her eyes filled with hurt that he wasn't letting her tell him what he had done.

“I want to know why you did it,” she said. “I know I'm young and have been coddled my whole life;” Cullen snorted at that. “I haven't had the life experience that normal people have,” she said.

“Bronwynn, you have had to deal with worse than most normal people have, yes you are naive in some areas; but my love you have seen more bad than good,” he traced his forefinger down her pert nose. “I don't know why I was being such a fool,” he admitted. She sighed and nodded.

“Okay, we agree we need to work on our communication. Now for the demons. You said that you thought you'd lost me before you could tell me how angry you were, love. I don't understand why you were worried about the demons.” he began stroking her hair once again, she opened her eyes in shock.

“That pride demon headed straight for you, it towered over you, and it tried to smash you to pieces!” she almost shouted at him. His eyes widened in concern when he heard the fear that had infused her voice.

“Bronwynn, I'm a Templar; we train for fighting demons,” he reminded her. She shook her head in denial. He nodded his head in opposition. “Yes, love, we train daily to fight demons, not just abominations and blood-mages,” he kept his voice calm, if not soothing.

“It could have killed you,” she whispered.

“It could have killed you, also my love,” he said with a voice that only just controlled his own fear and rage. Her eyes widened when she heard that. It hadn't dawned on her that he'd be worried for her safety against the demons.

“But, they're just demons, not a threat to me;” she started to say. Cullen suddenly moved her to the other side of the sofa and stood up to step away from her. She stopped speaking at the suddenness of it, then curled herself into as small a space as she could without hiding. She could see his fists were curled into a white knuckle grip, his brows were angry blond slashes against the burning red his face had turned.

“Not a threat to you?” he shouted, his body rigid with his fury.

“O-okay maybe -”

“Demons are more dangerous to you, a mage; than me a Templar, you know this!” he made sure he didn't move towards or away from her, he could see she was frightened but he had to make her see how terrified he had been, how the danger she had placed herself in had nearly undone him.

“If that pride demon had found a weakness in you, if those rage demons had been just a bit faster, and then that other thing – I don't even know what it was!” His voice had risen even more with his rage, and now Bronwynn could hear the fear in his voice.

“It changed after that fool Lorenus slit his wrist! From smoke to you with the Tranquil mark upon your forehead and my sword through your chest; tell me woman, when you sealed yourself in with something powerful enough to kill by simply draining the mage's blood did you think at all about what I might feel?” she sat there blinking at him in shock. He was angry, she could see that, and since she had just admitted she needed to listen to what he had to say she made herself hear it. She blinked again and swallowed.

“No, I didn't” she guiltily admitted. When he turned away from her and walked into his room she started shaking. She knew what she had been thinking; that she was the only one who could destroy the demons. She had thought she was the only one who was able to fight them. She knew better; of course, she had been training with the Knight-Captain and the Knight-Lieutenant for over a year. They both used their lyrium enhanced gifts against her to help her learn. Both men had learned that she didn't need to use blood-magic to summon demons or spirits. She had seen Cullen and Marline destroy demons that she had summoned.

Yet in her mind, until the demon went after Cullen she had been alone. Even after, when she saw Cullen easily defending himself against the beast she still thought that only she could take them all on and win. Yet Cullen had taken down three mages, three rage demons, and taken the killing blow on the pride demon. Bronwynn forced herself to think it through. She had been proud of him, glad he was on her side. Why had she thought she he wouldn't help her? Why had she thought she was alone?

Because she had been angry with him; furious really. She started laughing bitterly at her own idiocy. Of course she hadn't thought about what he would think or feel. Despite the fact they had been having sex for almost a year, even though she believed she loved him, she hadn't learned to trust him. She started laughing harder as she realized she was curled up in a tight ball of fear when she knew this man would never hurt her unless she did become an abomination and needed to die. Her laughing became hysterical as she started to hyperventilate from the panicked feeling she had. A whole year she'd been giving this man her body, and even professed to love him aloud and to herself but she had believed at the time that only she could win the day.

Bronwynn didn't realize she'd started choking on her laughter until Cullen was fighting to unbend her and shouting in her ear to get her attention.

“BY ANDRASTE WOMAN! BREATHE DAMMIT! BREATHE!” he was shouting, fear choking his voice. “Please Bronwynn, please don't do this to me,” he begged her. When she passed out from lack of air he almost lost his mind. Before he could react; however she took a deep breath and woke up, her breath coming even again and her color returning to normal. Cullen pulled her into his arms again thanking Andraste she was okay.

“What in the abyss was that?” he asked her hoarsely.

“I am so sorry,” she whispered.

“What?”

“I am so, so sorry!” she said where he could hear this time. “I am more of an idiot than you,” she laughingly cried. He frowned his confusion.

“I have fallen victim to the very idiocy that makes us mages so much more dangerous than we should be. My own arrogance and certainty that I can't be wrong, that I'm invincible, that I'm alone-” she took a deep breath.

“I watched you do as much damage to those demons and mages as I did, I remember thinking how proud I was of your strength, I was happy you were on my side!” she was speaking emphatically, staring straight into his blue eyes. “You may have hurt my feelings, Cullen, but the truth is I have been hiding from...” she searched her mind for the right words, the way to say what she was meaning.

“Do you love me?” he asked her quietly and her heart burst.

“Maker, Cullen, I could not love you more if I were Andraste herself;” she whispered. “I thought I loved you two months ago. I thought I knew what it was, I swear I meant it when I said it,” she was crying again.

“Why are you crying then?” he asked her

“Because I have been acting like I am still alone! I haven't trusted you at all.” She let out a breath, feeling her chest relax as she told him. Part of her was terrified that he'd not want her any longer when she was done, but she owed him the same truthfulness he'd given her.

He smiled at her. Then he started laughing. She frowned in confusion.

“What's so funny?”

“You think you could have gone into that battle by yourself with only myself as an observer if you didn't trust me to break orders if I thought I had to?” he asked as he was chuckling. She thought about it.

“N-no, I guess not.” she admitted after a few minutes of thinking about it. He smiled, moved her on the sofa so she was sitting with her back on the cushion and slid her legs apart to fit himself between them. He slid his hands along her thighs up to her hips, pulling his tunic higher up her body to bare her vagina to his view.

“If you didn't trust me, could you let me do this; be this close to you when you're this vulnerable?” he asked her softly, running his hands over her thighs from her hips to her knees; letting his thumbs and fingers brush the junction between her legs. He reveled in every shiver from her. He could see she was thinking; and could see when her confusion was too great.

“What we have, my love, is more than just sex. You said it earlier, we were making love. I am interested in this beautiful body of yours; never doubt that,” he laughed huskily as the scent of her arousal filled his nostrils. “But I am also interested in your thoughts and feelings,” he used his grip to pull her forward and spread her legs further apart.

“You would never have let me inside you, my love, if you didn't trust me,” he told her just as he opened her labia. “You'd never be able to let me do this, either,” he breathed against her clit just before his tongue caressed her. She gave a soft cry and tangled her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer to her.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Cullen grasped Bronwynn's hips firmly with calloused fingers and lifted her towards him as he used his shoulders to spread her legs wider to open her up more for his ministrations. The sound of her soft cries of pleasure was both music to his ears and a goad to his ego. Cullen took his time kissing her clit. When she began to writhe under his tongue he then switched to long caresses from her opening to her clit with that appendage. He gripped her hips harder when she tried thrusting up to get more. He'd been too long without tasting her, too long without hearing the sound of her pleasure, without hearing her pleading with him for release. Cullen was going to take his time bringing her to climax.  
Cullen slid his tongue into the opening of her passage, groaning with his own pleasure from the taste of her. He felt her jerk against his hands and laughed huskily as he probed her with his tongue; she gasped tightening her fingers in his hair, softly calling his name. He could feel her body tightening as she began to reach her zenith. Cullen slid one hand from holding her hips in a bruising grip, slid his tongue up her slit, and sucked on her clit as he thrust two fingers into her; her screaming his name as she drenched his hand with her orgasm undid him. He used his fingers to bring her to completion. Cullen quickly stood and undid the front of his breeches and while she was panting but silent and spent he lifted her from where she laid limp and spent. He turned and sat on the sofa; adjusted her legs so they were on either side of his thighs. She had leaned forward to kiss him and as their tongues dueled for supremacy he lowered her onto his erection, thrusting up as he did so to completely fill her. She squealed into his mouth and adjusted herself slightly to take him in even more deeply. Their breathing was heavy and mingled as they kissed, their tongues mating in opposition to their bodies rhythm. He kept her pace slow and even, he could feel her clenching around him, milking him, but he wouldn't increase the pace. Their tongues were mating furiously and he held on to his control with a white knuckle grip.  
Bronwynn pulled her mouth from his and pressed her body closer to his, her lips against his ear as she began to plead quietly. Her whispered words combined with the heat of her body as she writhed on him cracked his control. He lifted her and then pulled her down on him sharply. It wasn't enough for him. He twisted them so she was on the sofa underneath him; he braced his feet against the arm of the sofa.  
“Open up for me,” he growled against her throat, when he felt her legs open more, felt her body relax into the furniture he wrapped his arms under her and bit where her shoulder and neck met. She began repeating his name in a high pitch as she came again while he slammed into her; finding his own release inside her.  
He woke a few minutes later, hearing her softly crying.  
“Hey, what's wrong?” he asked, sliding from her body and pulling her up against his chest.  
“Nothing's wrong,” she answered.  
“Then you wouldn't be crying,” he whispered against her hair. He heard her giggle and pulled back to look at her.  
“They're happy tears, my heart,” she smiled up at him. Her green eyes were bright and clear; her raspberry lips stretched into a smile that was both innocent and seductive at once. He groaned and kissed her repeatedly along her lips before sitting up once again; pulling her back onto his lap.  
“Don't look at me like that, my love, I don't think I can stand it.”  
“Why?” she giggled as she straddled his thighs, the warmth of her pussy teasing his groin with its closeness. She was still wearing Cullen's under tunic and he frowned in consternation.  
“How did I not get this off you?” he wondered aloud. She laughed and pushed his hands away when he tried to slide his hands under it to take it off.  
“Hello, I can't see your body with this thing on,” he reminded her with mock anger. She moved closer to his chest and pressed herself against him.  
“Use your imagination,” she laughing ordered before she pressed her open mouth against his closed one and licked his lips. He opened his mouth to capture her tongue and suck on it. He felt her fingers slide through the hair on the nape of his neck, gently caressing him. Her heat stirred his desire; but she was moving languidly, almost sleepily, as she kissed him. When she slid off his lap, taking his hands and tugging him up; he willingly followed her to his bed. Bronwynn slapped his hands down once again before sliding her own small ones under his shirt to begin sliding it up his chest. Her fingers were chilly against his sides but she had her green eyes locked on his blue ones and the intimacy was erotic enough to block out the chill. His manhood stirred against her belly, she sighed as she felt it pressing against her. He let her slide his shirt up his chest, when he lifted his arms for her to slide it over his head he chuckled when she had to stretch on her toes to get it up. She retaliated by leaning into him to lick his left nipple. He sucked in a breath and then his eyes crossed when she lightly nipped it after. He held his breath as he tossed his shirt and she lightly scored his lower back with her nails before running her fingers under the waist of his breeches. They were still open from their earlier lovemaking so when she slid her hands under the waist and down his buttocks they dropped to the floor easily. Her fingers squeezed the muscles of his ass and she used the leverage to pull herself closer. He started to wrap his arms around her she stopped him again. He growled softly but dropped his arms to his sides. He felt her smile against his chest just before her tongue darted out and her hands gripped his hips.  
“Bronwynn!” he ground out between clenched teeth when she traced her tongue from his chest down his belly, his erection sliding up her belly to nestle between her breasts just before she was fully on her knees. His dick was so hard it actually pulled the tunic she was wearing up; she tugged the garment over her head as Cullen opened his eyes to look down at his mage, once more reaching for her only to stop when she raised her green eyes up to his. There was such wanton desire burning from them his breath caught in his throat and he held his breath once more. She moistened her raspberry lips with her strawberry pink tongue, his cock jumped and he released the breath he had been holding. He started panting in anticipation.  
She smiled; a smile so seductive Cullen thought his knees were going to buckle. Her tongue slipped from her mouth and; while she was still holding his gaze, she swiped her tongue over the head of him. His breath caught, she swirled her tongue around the tip. He heard her moan of appreciation as she did so. Her eyes were still on his when she slid him into her mouth. His hands were then in fisted in her hair as he tried to pull her off. She simply pulled him forward by his hips as she took him deeper into her mouth. Once more he growled her name; she traced the shape of him in her mouth with her tongue, then slightly sucked. She kept looking up at his face, watching his reaction. His pupils were dilated and he was breathing heavily as she used her mouth on him the way he used his on her. She had never felt more powerful; or more excited. She had power over him, equal to the power he had over her it seemed. She could tell he was trying to stop her without hurting her, but she was having none of that.  
Bronwynn took him as deeply into her mouth as she could. Her tongue danced against his testicles and she felt them tighten. His fingers opened to grasp her head and hold her still. She chuckled and used her own leverage to keep bobbing her head, although she had closed her eyes as she savored the taste of him. Hot and salty, he was satin covered steel in her mouth. She pulled back to the head and swiped her tongue across the very tip and sighed when she tasted the moisture from his pre-ejaculate.  
“Bronwynn!” he hoarsely shouted just before she felt his penis jerk in her mouth. When the first spurt of semen hit her throat she swallowed instinctively. Her nails dug into his hips as she kept swallowing, her body responding to his orgasm with its own release.  
Cullen felt her throat working to swallow his seed as he filled her mouth. His breath came in harsh bursts as he tried not to thrust into her mouth the way he would her vagina. She swallowed the last of his semen and she dipped her head once more to the base of his dick; licking him clean as she did. He growled and grabbed her by her upper arms and yanked her up his body; she let go of his penis with reluctance. He clamped his mouth on hers, tasting himself while he kissed her had him immediately hardening again. He took two steps out of his breeches and to the bed, dropping her on the overstuffed mattress. She squealed and began laughing. The sound gave him a brief pause. He'd never heard her laugh and he liked the sound. It made him smile mischievously, her green eyes widened when she saw it.  
“No! Don't you dare!” she said as she started crawling backwards up the bed to get away from him. He started to chuckle as he knelt on the bed and grabbed her right ankle. She was shaking her head and jerking her leg to get it away from him.  
“Oh, yes,” he said as he then grabbed her left ankle and pulled her to him. She squealed again and tried grabbing the mattress to stop herself from moving to no avail.  
She lay laughing beneath him, his hands lying lightly upon her sides, his eyes following the movement of her breasts as she laughed. He swallowed his desire, as difficult as it was, and concentrated on how to keep her laughing. She had not sounded so carefree in the year and a half he'd known her.  
Bronwynn took advantage of his distraction to try and slide off the bed; he grinned again and lightly tickled her sides. Once more she squealed and bounced and squirmed trying to get away.  
“No! No nonononononononononononono!” she pleaded as she laughed. When he leaned over her to tickle under her arms he slid inside her and the play quickly turned to passion. Their lips met and she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist to pull herself up higher onto him. Cullen shifted so he was sitting on his calves and pulled her up to thrust more deeply into her. He still marveled that she could take all of him, she lowered her mouth to his and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. They moved together hard a fast, their breath and moans mingling.  
In minutes it was over, they stiffened as he filled her with his seed. He heard her sobbing as he pulled out of her to lay them down.  
“Did I hurt you?” he asked in concern. She shook her head and pressed herself closer to his side.  
“No, you didn't hurt me,” she said as she got her breathing under control.  
“So you're crying for joy?” he grinned with pride. She laughed huskily at his puffing.  
“Yes, even though you don't need to get a bigger head,” she quipped. He was silent for a moment and then burst into hearty laughter. She frowned at him. “What?” she asked. He just shook his head and laughed harder. She leaned up on her side and frowned at him. “What did I say?” Her innocence, despite their relations for the last year, awed him. He had to catch his breath before he could answer his lover.  
“A double entendre, my love,” he managed as he calmed down.  
“What?” she shook her head.  
“You were speaking of my ego when you said bigger head,” he stated, she nodded. “Well, there is a slang for a man’s penis; well the tip of a man’s penis,” he said. She opened her eyes and waved her hand as if to say well. He smiled but managed not to laugh. “What you did when you took me in your mouth is called “giving head” he said and then waited. She frowned in confusion for a moment then her eyes widened in shock and she blushed to the roots of her hair. This made him laugh again, although he pulled her mouth to his to kiss her while he did. His laughter was contagious; now that she knew why he was laughing, and she laughed with him.  
“I want you to know, Enchanter Bronwynn Amell that I love that you didn't know that.” He brushed her hair behind her ear, tracing it with his fingers. Bronwynn leaned into his hand and made a soft sound in her throat. Cullen reached across himself and pulled her down onto his chest, she sighed and snuggled into him. The fingers on the hand on his chest wiggled and the covers settled over them. Cullen smiled sleepily as he heard her breathing even out. Perhaps the day had been a bit eventful, and he still felt he owed her some sort of recompense for his callous comment about the magic; but she was back where she belonged. In his bed, in his arms. Hopefully she wouldn't try and find an excuse to leave it again.

**************************************************************  
Bronwynn stood facing the Knight-Commander and First Enchanter the following morning. Neither were happy with her as she hadn't come running to answer their questions the night before. Greagoir's expression said he suspected there had been a reason other than she slept through the night although Irving’s expression was simply annoyed. She kept her expression polite but blank, it was harder than usual because she wanted to smile. Her heart felt lighter than it ever had and her body felt loose. She could almost feel Cullen's hands on her like they had been that morning.  
He hadn't put on the Templar armor, but his leathers. He had called her his love even when they were in the main room eating the breakfast she had made. She hadn't felt slighted when he hadn't tried to take her hand or arm, especially since he had been walking close enough to touch her with his arm should he want to.  
Bronwynn had seen the looks they had gotten that morning; some were outright violent while others were confused. No one had said anything, but she knew it was only a matter of time. There were too many mages who felt the Templar's had no right to stop their use of blood-magic, too many mages in this Circle who felt they had the right to use their magic however they wished. Aquetarian's like herself were the largest faction of mages; mages who wanted simply to be allowed to live within reasonable guidelines. Bronwynn knew that throughout Thedas the Aquetarian's were the largest group, but the smaller groups tended to be louder so were more obvious. She worried more about the mages who didn't shout their preferences, however. Uldred was the main one; he led a cabal of blood-mages and yet because he was of an age with Irving and was on the council for the Circle no one would believe her.  
Now the Knight-Commander and First Enchanter were staring at her and saying nothing after their brusque question of where she had been all night. Cullen stood beside her with his arms behind his back and his eyes boring holes into the Knight-Commander.  
Irving chose to break the silence.  
“We had hoped to get to their questioning before the rumors began to spread about yesterday,” Irving told them. Bronwynn shook her head.  
“Why didn't you? Surely you could have put the hot pokers to them without my assistance?” Cullen cleared his throat, which had Bronwynn look at him. His face had not changed expressions, but she could see laughter in his eyes.  
“Enchanter Bronwynn, you are already on very thin ice today, do not add an improper attitude to it.”  
Bronwynn narrowed her eyes at the Templar commander. Cullen reached over and touched her shoulder. She took a deep breath through her nose and held her tongue. She did see the older men frown in unison when Cullen had touched her. 'Too bad, gentlemen' she thought to herself. 'He does know me better than either of you'. It was a petty thought and she immediately felt badly for thinking it, but it didn't change the facts. He was only trying to keep her from angering them unnecessarily.  
“Templar, please wait outside,” Greagoir intoned with an evenness to his voice that was completely unnatural. Cullen narrowed his blue eyes at the older man but nodded and left. Bronwynn forced herself to stay relaxed, to not go into a defensive and defiant stance.  
“Did he tell you why we wanted to see you last night?” Irving broke in before Greagoir to verbally attack his student mage. Bronwynn nodded curtly.  
“Then why didn't you come to us last night?” Greagoir demanded.  
“I have already stated that I was sleeping, Ser Cullen didn't tell me until I woke this morning,” she managed to keep her voice even, she kept her attitude under control; barely.  
“Are you willing to give them a once-over, Enchanter Bronwynn?” Greagoir asked stiffly. He sounded offended, though Bronwynn couldn't think why.  
“Of course I will, Knight-Commander; that was never in question,” she answered, a little more snidely than was polite. He let it go, however, when Irving took her arm and led her through to the room with the mages. He chose to step into the hall and confront his Lieutenant.

“Is this ability you have to spot the taint of blood-magic something you can teach, Enchanter Bronwynn?” Irving asked her as she entered the room before him.  
“Yes, otherwise I wouldn't know how to do it,” Bronwynn said.  
“How did you learn to do this?” Irving asked with genuine curiosity.  
“We have an entire section of books on the subject of aural site,” she told him with a hint of excitement in her voice. Irving nodded in appreciation.  
“We will have to go over them together, Enchanter, see if there is a way for us to pass this information on,” Irving said. They both looked at the five mages who had survived the encounter yesterday. The ones the Fear Demon had not killed.  
“I know a few other tricks as well,” Bronwynn said as an aside, as if what she was about to do didn't sicken her. She already knew that these men were either going to be put to the brand or killed. Their actions yesterday had seen to that; but she didn't like that she was going to confirm their guilt. Then she thought of something that horrified her even more.  
“Wait, First Enchanter, I can't be the one who does this thing,” she said, barely suppressing the panic.  
“Why not?”  
“I will not be considered an objective party, ser.” Irving sighed in frustration because he knew she was right. There was no one, however, he could bring in. He told her so. Her russet brows drew together as she thought hard.  
“I can teach you,” she said. His brows rose in surprise. “It's not really that hard, First Enchanter,” she told him. He thought for a second and decided to humor her. When she explained to him what to do he found she had been correct. It wasn't that hard to do at all; and what he saw when he looked at her was amazing. He could see her, although her features were somewhat fuzzy he could see a soft yellow light clinging to her skin; it looked almost as if she were surrounded by candlelight. There were hints of a soft pink and a deeper blue around the edges of the light and Irving got the sense that she was at peace. He was also certain she was feeling love. How he could tell this from colors he wasn't sure but he knew these were her feelings.  
When he turned his new vision towards the prisoners, however, it was a lesson in contrasts. Three of the five had auras that were a dark and angry red. He could see something that looked like black stains on their auras. The other two had aura's that were, while not red, were definitely not healthy. Again, Irving did not know how he knew this; but he was sure he was correct.  
“Liam and Dalton are not healthy,” Irving said to the young mage next to him, she shook her head, not in disagreement, however.  
“No, they are not,” she agreed. “Notice, however that they do not have the stains on their auras that Marven, Charles and Dar'ren have.” Bronwynn pointed out. Irving nodded.  
“Is there a way to help them,” he wondered aloud.  
“We'd have to separate them all,” she said. Irving frowned when he saw the three mages stir. He could see and feel their pulling on their magic when she said that. He was amazed anew when Bronwynn shook her head and smiled grimly.  
“Oh no you don't, you aresholes,” Bronwynn said with a menace Irving had never heard from her. Then he felt another stirring of energy from her. When he looked at her he could see the yellow of her aura swirling; it seemed to reach out to surround the three mages. Then he realized it wasn't just surrounding them, it was smothering them. The energy they were pulling stopped abruptly. He gaped at the young mage woman in shock. He had never even heard of someone being able to shut down another mage before they cast a spell; much less see someone doing it. Perhaps Greagoir was correct and this one woman was meant for so much more than what she was currently being held to. The looks the three men gave her were full of venom and hate. The other two men looked very frightened. Before Irving could decide what he should do about moving them Greagoir and Cullen entered the room.  
“Bronwynn, are you sure separating them will help?” he asked her by way of passing the suggestion to the Templars. The redhead nodded absently, as she watched the three blood-mages carefully. She knew they would be unable to cast anything until she released them from the binding, but she had to be sure they weren't going to try anything. She felt Cullen move to stand behind her, his presence actually reassuring now. She could see the tension in both his and Greagoir's aura. Apparently there had been more words between them. She could not allow that to distract her; of course that was easier thought than implemented.  
“Why separate them, Enchanter?” Greagoir asked roughly.  
“Marven, Charles and Dar'ren are the blood-mages; Liam and Dalton are ill and if we separate them I may be able to help make them better.” Bronwynn answered the Knight-Commander. She saw all five men look at her as if she were mad and she smiled at them. Greagoir made the decision to trust the girls instincts and he and Cullen grabbed the two men she indicated and dragged them out of the room. Irving and Bronwynn followed, shutting and locking the door behind themselves.  
Greagoir directed Cullen to a small room on the left of the original room while he took the other man to a room on the right. Bronwynn thought about the two men for a moment. What did she know of them. Probably not as much as she should since she was normally isolated from the other mages.  
“Tell me about Dalton, First Enchanter,” she said. He looked startled by the request. “You do know something of him, don't you?” she asked. Irving had been in the circle for over fifty years, he had been First Enchanter for thirty years, as long Knight-Commander Greagoir had been Knight-Commander. Bronwynn felt sure he had to know something about his charges.   
“He has a passion for nugs, he likes strawberries, and I think he's been seeing Lynette,” Irving answered quickly. Bronwynn laughed softly.  
“Nugs and Lynette, well that kind of figures.” she said wryly.  
“Now, now, Lynette is a perfectly lovely woman,” Irving said and Bronwynn couldn't help but smile. She knew how protective the First Enchanter was of his charges. Bronwynn took a deep breath and went into the room on the right where Greagoir had taken the younger of the two mages. The three males followed her in and arranged themselves behind her as she stood over the young, frightened mage. The Knight-Commander was to her left, First Enchanter to her right and the Knight-Lieutenant behind her once more. Dalton looked up at the red haired mage with eyes so brown they were almost black. He had clearly not been allowed to clean up since the fight yesterday. She could see the dirt from where he had fallen to the ground on his face and robes, there was blood from where he had bit his lip and she thought she smelled urine. He was on the floor curled up in a tight ball with his back to the wall. She shook her head sadly. There were no stains on his aura and that relieved her, because she could say he hadn't begun to practice blood-magic. She could see what appeared to be hooks sunk into his aura, however and that worried her. It meant that someone else was able to draw from his life, and also meant that someone could possibly control him.  
“The First Enchanter's favorite,” the young man sneered to cover his fear. Bronwynn looked around and saw a chair behind the Knight-Commander; Cullen saw her looking at it and snatched it for her, holding it as she sat down. “Templar's whore,” he added. Cullen and Greagoir tensed, but Bronwynn ignored his words. She kept her back straight and folded her hands in her lap.  
“Dalton, I have to ask you this question, even though I know the answer,” she started, keeping her voice frosty. “Have you ever practiced blood-magic?” The young man twisted his face into a snarl.  
“No!” he replied vehemently. Bronwynn nodded. Greagoir was surprised to see Irving nodded as well.  
“You can't beli-”  
“He speaks the truth, Knight-Commander,” Bronwynn said evenly, she kept her eyes on the mage; however. His eyes widened in shock. She believed him?  
“Dalton, how long have you been studying under Enchanter Uldred?” Bronwynn asked, he looked confused but answered truthfully. Irving confirmed as did Greagoir. “Has he ever shown you how 'harmless' blood-magic can be?” she continued. He looked startled for just long enough that everyone saw it before he tried for another sneer.  
“Enchanter Uldred does not teach blood-magic!” he denied. Greagoir wanted to call him a liar, but Bronwynn asked another question before he could.  
“Has he ever cast a spell of any sort on you?” Dalton looked confused by the question.  
“Of course he has, so I would know what the effect of a spell would feel,” the answer came as if she should know this, which she did. Bronwynn nodded in affirmation. Then turned to the Templar behind her.  
“Ser Knight, in our quarters at my large desk there is a very large bag,” Cullen nodded, he knew that bag well.  
“Would you mind bringing that bag here?” she asked him. He nodded curtly and left to fetch the bag. Bronwynn let the silence stretch while they waited.  
“You aren't going to use blood-magic on me, whore, why be so mysterious?” he demanded, trying still to get a reaction out of her.  
“You may not want to call me that a third time, Dalton. The Templars may take offense; seeing as I'm a mage,” Bronwynn offered easily and without rancor. Her demeanor confused the frightened man. He knew they were going to put him to the brand, they believed he'd purposely been a part of the demon summoning the day before.  
“Uldred isn't going to burst in here and demand you stop this, is he?” Dalton asked aloud, without meaning to. Bronwynn, Irving and Greagoir shook their heads sadly.  
“Dalton, if he did that he'd be confirming my accusations,” Bronwynn informed him. “He knows that I know he planned that attack yesterday morning. He wants me dead for some reason.” Dalton was nodding when she finished.  
“You won't bend to him,” Dalton said. Bronwynn moved so suddenly he shrieked; yet she didn't attack him. He felt a warmth surround him; a warmth that made him think of safety. A safety he hadn't felt since he'd started studying under Uldred.  
Then he felt what seemed like a thousand needles being ripped from his skin and the scream it ripped from him made even the Knight-Commander pale in fright. Cullen came in just as the scream started and Bronwynn and Irving both were holding the mage down.  
“I need the blue bottle with the red cork!” she shouted at her lover and he simply put the bag down and opened it up. Pulling out the bottle she demanded he handed it to her.  
“Hold his legs, Templar! Suppress this magic!” she demanded. “Irving, hold his head, keep his mouth open for just a moment!” The Templars began focusing to suppress the magic in the room as she slowly poured the liquid into the screaming mages mouth. When he started to swallow instead she held his mouth closed and focused on finding the damage. Having the Templars suppress the magic in the room made it difficult, but she forced her own magic passed them to help him. She felt it when she found the first of the hook being activated. Tears filled her eyes and bile rose in her throat.  
“No, I will not lose to you, you bastard!” she growled out and wrapped her own aura around the young man.  
“Cullen, Irving! Get to Liam!” She shouted as she focused on healing the mage. She could feel Dalton trying to avoid swallowing the rest of the liquid, she leaned down and started whispering into his ear. She spoke as calmly as she could to relax him so he would stop fighting the fluid. It took far longer than she liked, but he did calm down and let the potion take effect. She relaxed slightly herself when he finally passed out. She turned him on his side and slid him next to the wall so his back was propped against the wall. She gave Greagoir a hard look.  
“Whatever you do, Knight-Commander, you do not let him choke; I will never forgive you if you do!” She whispered furiously at him. He frowned at her and his response was just as full of venom.  
“I don't kill mages out of hand, I won't let one die out of hand, woman. Go save the other one if you can,” Bronwynn's eyes widened in shock at his tone but he felt justified since she seemed to think he was out to kill all mages. His Templars were not supposed to treat mages as if they were all abominations waiting to happen. She nodded and rose, grabbing another vial from the bag and ran to the other room.  
Cullen turned and wrapped an arm around her waist and hauled her bodily out of the room before she could see anything. He had a green tinge to his cheeks and mouth and he looked ill. Irving slammed the door behind them as he also stepped out of the room. Bronwynn started to struggle against him when he whispered it's too late in her ear. He held her tightly when he felt the sobs begin wracking her body.  
First Enchanter Irving waited until she had quieted somewhat before speaking.   
“Bronwynn, I need you to calm down” Irving said in a voice she had never heard before. She nodded as she pulled herself together. When she had control of her tears and was breathing almost normally she looked at the older man. He appeared to have aged a decade in just a few moments time. When she looked up at Cullen he also appeared to have aged. Whatever was in that room was bad, and she knew that what Irving was going to ask of her was going to be just as a bad, if not worse. She swallowed her fear and looked back at Irving to wait for what he had to say. Irving looked into her green eyes and saw she understood there was something bad and that he was going to ask her to do something hard. He felt pride in her swell within him. She was going to make an excellent First Enchanter; if not Grand Enchanter, one day.  
“I need you to tell me who did what was done in there,” Irving told the young Enchanter. Cullen turned to face the First Enchanter and started to argue when Bronwynn started shaking her head.  
“I can’t” She whispered to him, only just loudly enough to be heard. Irving frowned, but before he could chastise her she shook her head again.  
“I’m sorry, Irving, I can’t because I don’t have a way to do so. I don’t think there is a way,” She held back another sob and looked at the man with tear filled green eyes.  
Irving cursed, loudly, shocking both younger people. Greagoir heard it as he came out of the other room.  
“What has happened?” he demanded. He took in the haggard looks of both Cullen and Irving, could see how upset Bronwynn looked and got a bad feeling about what that answer might be. Before either man could answer him he opened the door to the room they were in front of. He held it open for only a second; his large frame blocking the view from Bronwynn’s gaze; before he slammed it shut once more.  
“Maker preserve us,” he whispered. “Am I to take it that we cannot prove who did this?” The Knight-Commander asked, he assumed this was the case from seeing the look of failure on the girls face. She confirmed this assumption. He sighed sadly. “So we have no way of proving it was Uldred,” he said. The other three shook their heads.  
“Wait, Dalton should…” Greagoir shook his head. “What happened?” Bronwynn asked.  
“He came to; raving.” Greagoir answered. All three of them others looked confused.  
“He was speaking nonsense, Bronwynn,” he continued. She sagged against her Templar; her body folding in on itself in defeat. He felt her frustration and sadness. They all knew the other three wouldn’t be giving any information that would incriminate Uldred. They would vehemently deny any use of blood-magic themselves. He felt very old in that moment. Uldred was a Senior Enchanter, and even though he wasn’t popular with the other Senior Enchanters he was still a trusted member of the mages council here in the Circle Tower on Lake Calenhad. They would need hard evidence of his guilt before anything could be done, and with two apparent victims unable to speak against him; it was unlikely anything would be done.  
“So I went through all that yesterday for nothing?” Bronwynn said with growing anger.  
“No, not nothing,” Irving began. She waved her hand and cut him off.  
“Enchanter, we need you to check the Templar's for, whatever it is you would check for to see if they are under control of a blood-mage,” Greagoir said. Bronwynn pointed to Irving.  
“He can tell you, it would be better if it were him, anyway.” She wiped furiously at her eyes and turned her face away.  
“I’ll be in the library,” she said flatly; pulling away from Cullen. She stepped in the other room long enough to grab her oversized bag and stormed down the hallway.  
“Keep her in sight, Templar, I don’t want anything happening to her,” Greagoir ordered. Cullen simply nodded, following the girl quickly.  
The blond man lengthened his stride to catch up to his angry lover. He knew there was nothing he could say or do to calm her down. He was curious to know what she expected to find in the library. Then he heard her muttering under her breath. They had reached their quarters where she locked the door behind the two of them.  
“Bronwynn, my love, this is not the library,” he said softly. He knew she was angry, as was he. He had walked in that room to see Liam being literally turned inside out. Cullen suddenly broke for the water closet. Bronwynn waited for him to finish before handing him a cloth to clean his mouth with then handing him a glass of water. After he had rinsed his mouth out she stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. He pulled her into his chest and held her tightly. He felt himself shivering, and when he heard Bronwynn squeak he realized he was crushing her. He loosened his grip to let her take a deeper breath.  
Bronwynn let him pull her up until his arms were around her waist and her feet were off the ground. She felt his tears staining her shirt but doubted he knew he was crying. She didn’t know what to say, she hadn’t seen what was in the room, so she didn’t say anything. They stood like that for half an hour before he was able to let her go. She asked him no questions; for which he was grateful. When he took her face in his hands and kissed her she slid her arms around his waist and sighed softly into his mouth. She still hadn’t spoken and Cullen was grateful for that; but he could feel from her whole being she loved him.  
He held her like that for another five minutes, the kiss never becoming more than comfort. He broke the kiss and put his forehead against hers. He heard her sigh again; she sounded content.  
“Ma vhenan,” Bronwynn said softly.  
“What does that mean?”  
“My heart,” she answered shyly. He gave her his crooked grin and kissed her nose.  
“I swear I’ll keep it safe,” he replied with humor laced sincerity. She smiled up at him, and he couldn’t help but kiss her lightly once more.  
“Thank you, my love,” Cullen whispered to his red haired mage. She simply nodded and hugged him once again. Cullen felt the terror from what he had seen receding. The sight may never leave him and he was sure there would be nightmares, but the intensity was fading.  
“Still, this is not the library,” he said again, this time with humor. She laughed softly.  
“As if I need to go to the library for my research,” she responded with sarcasm. He laughed aloud as she flounced over to their bookshelves. Which did take up one whole wall of their quarters.  
“How many of these books are you supposed to be keeping?” he asked her. He hadn’t really thought about it before, but she had a lot of books.  
“All of them, I bought them.” She said. Cullen was actually confused by this statement.  
“How is that?” he asked “You haven’t left the Circle,” he reminded her. She laughed at his statement.  
“One does not necessarily need to leave the circle to make money,” she replied. He watched her check a small book she had next to the shelving and then pull several books off one of the lower shelves near the middle of the wall. “Here, Ser Knight, skim through this one and see if it has any references to magic removal.” Cullen did not question her, and even though he was confused he did as she asked. He also knew it would be simpler to simply mark down any sections of the book that had the information she was asking for.  
He sat in his leather armor reading for over an hour before he realized he was uncomfortable. He had already marked several pages for her and was nearly done with the book so he put it down and went to change out of his leathers. Bronwynn watched him from the corner of her eye and realized he might need more than to just change out of his armor. He had blood on his boots. Bronwynn shivered in revulsion and decided to fix that.  
“Cullen, I’m drawing you a bath,” she called out to him. When he answered with a relieved grunt she grinned. He came out of the room with a towel around his waist and a bare chest. Her eyes danced across the breadth of his shoulders and down the muscles of his chest. Her fingers ached to trace the defined muscles of his upper chest and she could almost taste the salt of him as her eyes played across the musculature of his abdomen. She restrained a sigh when he dropped the towel and she could see the rest of him. His member was almost hidden by his pubic hair but she was looking more at his thighs. He was clearly built for strength and endurance, and she liked the shape of his legs. He turned to get into the tub and she wasn’t able to hold back the sigh when his wonderful bottom came into view. Her eyes traveled up his back and she gasped when she saw several small scars along his shoulder blades.  
“What?” Cullen whipped around to ask her, arms moving as if pulling a sword and bringing up a shield. Bronwynn shook her head and stepped behind him.  
“What are these?” she demanded as she traced the lines with her fingers. She didn’t see Cullen close his eyes at her touch; he repressed the shiver her touch evoked. Then he realized what she was tracing and let out a hearty laugh, turning to pull her clothed body tight to his nude one.  
“Those, my love, are where you’ve marked me in your passion,” she shook her head.  
“I don’t understand?” she asked.  
“You scratch, my love, you’ve drawn blood a few times.” Bronwynn’s eye widened in shock and then she turned red in embarrassment. He laughed again and kissed her sharp cheekbones. “It’s okay, darling, I like it,” he whispered in her ear before releasing her and stepping into the marble tub. He wasn’t sure where she got the thing, but it was very comfortable. Bronwynn was still embarrassed thinking about her leaving scars on his back when she heard him sigh in pleasure from the heat of the water.  
“I think I’ll go clean your armor,” she said. Suddenly shy even though she knew his body as well as her own. He reached out to grab her hand.  
“Stay,” he said softly, she turned to look at him. He looked so worn out, so defeated that she did. She pulled up a stool and sat beside the tub, holding his hand while they talked of mundane things.  
When Cullen started to fall asleep in the tub she laughed throatily and insisted on helping him bathe before he fell asleep. The Templar groused until her soap covered hands found his genitals. Then he pulled her, fully clothed, into the tub with him. Her laughter filled the room when he did. Her passion filled moans soon followed. Her water soaked dress hit the floor seconds before she cried out with her first orgasm. His shout of release was right behind hers. Cullen stood with her in his arms and took her into their room where he spent the next several hours coaxing his mage to more orgasms. When he finally fell asleep it was with her body wrapped around his.  
Bronwynn stroked her fingers through his hair, letting his breathing sooth her. She let her mind wander through all that had happened that day. It was pretty clear Cullen wasn’t going to tell her what he had seen; and that may be a good thing. She thought she had a pretty good idea it had been extremely traumatic. Cullen had participated in three Harrowings that had gone wrong; he usually had a glass of West Hill Brandy or Rowan’s Rose. This was the first time he had actually turned to her for comfort. The other times she had usually been asleep when he came back in. Only the empty glass had ever clued her in on a bad Harrowing.  
Bronwynn tried shifting to a more comfortable position, only to have him growl softly and pull her closer. She wondered idly what he was dreaming before letting her mind wander once more. She was drifting off into sleep herself when he started mumbling incoherently. She began to stroke his hair again, placing a soft kiss on his temple. She squeaked in surprise when his arms tightened around her painfully. He was still sleeping when he rolled her under him; thrusting hard into her and saying ‘mine’ before his teeth locked onto her shoulder.  
“Cullen!” she tried to shriek but it came out a strangled gasp. His arms moved to wrap her legs around his waist, she could hear him speaking, begging her to hold on, and swearing he’d get her to safety. Whatever he was dreaming about it certainly had nothing to do with the position they were currently in, but he began to thrust into her with hard, heavy, powerful strokes. When she began to whimper and moan from the suddenness of the pleasure he clamped his mouth on hers and stole her breath.  
“Shh, love, don’t make a sound,” he whispered against her lips as he spread his leg further, opening her up more to his assault. Although she knew he was dreaming and wasn’t aware of what he was doing she tried, and failed, to keep quiet like he demanded. His mouth covered hers again and their breath mingled in a rush as he rode her through his dream-scape. When he took his mouth from hers she could hear him saying ‘mine’ over and over again. She began to respond with ‘yes’ just as she felt him swelling inside her.  
“Oh! Maker!” she gasped when he erupted inside her, spilling his seed. She’d felt it before, and she had always liked how it felt; but this felt more primal.  
“Bron!” he shouted before he roared with the final release. His blue eyes locked onto her green ones and she was grateful to know he had woken before he finished. He stilled but didn’t release her. Instead he kissed her again; took a deep breath and hooked his elbows under her knees opening her more to him. He kept his eyes locked on hers as he thrust into her again.  
Bronwynn thought to stop him, but the look in his eyes held her silent. She realized she could only feel his dick as it moved in and out of her, she could only hear his whispering but not make out the words. Her eyes were held by his, by the fever in them.  
“Say it, Bron, tell me,” he said a little more loudly as he pounded her into the mattress. “Tell me you’re mine, Bron, only mine” he demanded. Her mouth worked but no words would come until he released a leg and rolled her clit between his thumb and forefinger. Her eyes snapped closed and he felt her clench around him as her orgasm broke free.  
“YES!” she shouted and her orgasm triggered a second one in him. This time he did collapse on her, wrapping his arms under her once more and holding her tight. Bronwynn lay there gasping under his weight; tears spilling from the corners of her eyes from the intensity of her orgasm. He held her like that for a short time before rolling to his back and pulling her on top of his chest.  
“I’m sorry, my love,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to…” Bronwynn kissed him to stop him talking.  
“Don’t,” she interrupted him. “I enjoyed it,” she said with a small wicked grin. He smiled and released his breath in relief. He hadn’t realized what was happening. His dream had been about getting her away from the blood-mages and demons, keeping her safe from those who would turn her inside out. It wasn’t the first such nightmare he’d had, it was the first time he’d woken up to being inside her. Then again, after the bad Harrowings he hadn’t wanted to be near any mage, not even his mage.  
“I’m glad I didn’t frighten you,” he told her as she folded her arms on his chest and put her chin on her hands to look him in the eye. He ran his calloused fingers through the hair on the side of her face, tracing her ear and grinning as she shivered.  
“No, just surprised me.” She looked up at him again and he could see a discussion happening in her head. “What were you dreaming about?” she asked. He debated how to answer as she had debated with herself if she should ask.  
“What happened to Liam,” he paused as he considered how to say it. “I have never seen that, I never imagined it could be done,” he said hoarsely. When her fingers wiped across his cheek to clear away the wetness was when he realized he was crying. She simply let him speak, though. “Bron, I … it was more than horrifying. No one, not even Maleficarum; deserve to die like that. I was dreaming of getting you away from those who would do that to you,” he finished. She nodded and leaned up to kiss his mouth. “How that translated into possessing you I don’t know,” he admitted.  
“Possessing me?” she asked. He held her face between his hands and kissed her, hard.  
“Yes, possessing, you’re mine” he murmured against her mouth when she had softened against him.  
“Umm, okay?” she answered with dreamy breathlessness. He laughed, and she started to slide off his body. “Ack!” she exclaimed while laughing herself. She looked into his eyes and reached up to run her finger across his forehead.  
“I love you, Cullen Stanton Rutherford,” Bronwynn said to the Templar. He smiled as he kissed her again.  
“I love you Bronwynn Elisabeth Amell” he replied. She kissed him softly then suddenly rolled off him. “Where are you going?” he asked as he tried to hold her. She laughed as she avoided his hands.  
“I have an idea about how to fix those blood-mages and get them to talk at the same time,” she told him as she grabbed an emerald robe and wrapped it closed.  
“I don't like that robe,” he groused.  
“Why not?” she asked, startled.  
“It hides your body from me,” he grinned wickedly at her. His reply startled another laugh out of her.  
“Ser Knight, I have work to do!” she tried to sound imperious, but her giggles ruined the effect.  
“Fine, Lady Enchanter, leave me to languish for want of you,” he laughed again when she stuck her tongue out at him before flouncing out of the room. He debated following her but decided to get some more sleep. Hopefully he would have pleasant dreams, not the nightmares.  
He passed the night in quiet slumber until she slid back into the bed with him. Once he felt her next to him he woke and rolled to pin her to the mattress. She whispered his name as their lips met.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5  
9:29 Dragon Mid-summer

Bronwynn stood in the center of her quarters, arms akimbo, raspberry lips pursed in thought. She was dressed only in her small clothes as she looked around the front room. She was lost in thought when Cullen opened the door, speaking and looking behind him as he did so; when he and the person he was speaking to entered the room it was to see the mage facing away from them in what appeared to be nothing. Cullen felt his face flush and began hearing a dull roar in his ears. He had to suppress his desire to smash his fist in the other man's face when he gave an appreciative whistle. Bronwynn turned in surprise at the unexpected sound and both men got a full view of her; albeit she was covered in a brassiere and panty. The other man's eyes bulged in his head as he took in how fit she was. “If you're not taking advantage of that body, Ser Cullen, you are a bloody idiot,” he whispered. Bronwynn squealed in shock and grabbed the robe lying on the back of the sofa.  
“What are you doing?” she screeched at Cullen a she ran into her room. Cullen held his breath and counted to fifty before he calmed down enough to turn back to the other man in the room.  
“I have found that mages tend to think they own everything,” he said, attempting to lighten the mood. The other man was shaking his head.  
“Wow, no wonder the other Templar's envy you, Ser Cullen,” the younger man's eyes were still on Bronwynn's closed doorway. He did not see Cullen's eyes narrow, neither did he notice the older man's hands clench into fists. Cullen forced himself to relax, to not blacken the mage's eyes. Bronwynn was attractive, other men noticed; he managed not to punch them all. Bronwynn reentered the room before Cullen lost his temper completely.  
“Maker, Ser Knight! You said you would knock!” she complained as she was securing her leather armor. The other man stepped forward quickly.  
“Bronwynn, do you think you could,” he stopped talking when her green eyes locked onto his brown ones.  
“Anders, I thought you were still in solitary,” she interrupted. He was older than her by a year and; like Irving, she figured he was mostly harmless.  
“I got out a few days ago,” he answered. “I would like your help with something,” he blurted out again.  
“I can't help with anything right now,” she told him, shaking her head sadly. Anders usually had interesting ideas.  
“But it's along the lines you had last year when those blood-mages were caught,” he whined.  
“Okay, but I'm leaving the tower tonight to go to Denerim,” she said. His eyes widened in shock. “See, those of us who stay put for more than a year at a time actually get to go other places,” she told the older mage with considerable wit. He cracked a smile and impulsively hugged her. She laughed with him.  
“Then what would all those Templar's do when they got bored?” he quipped at her before kissing her cheek. “Come see me when you get back!” He turned and gave the Templar a bawdy wink. Cullen gave the mage a blank stare as he left the room. Once the mage was gone Cullen locked the door and rounded on Bronwynn. Before he could do more than take a breath she started laughing.  
“That poor boy,” she said when she could breathe again. “He really should have stayed away from Karl,” her laughter rang out again. Cullen wanted to stay angry, but her laughter made it hard to do so.  
“Why should he have stayed away from Enchanter Karl?” Cullen groused. She stifled her giggles when she heard his disgruntled tone.  
“Karl will seduce any young man he can,” Bronwynn said, as if the Templar should have known that.  
“So Anders isn't interested in women?” Cullen asked, and he could have cursed himself for the note of hopefulness in his voice. When Bronwynn shook her head with an even bigger grin he failed to stop the growl. “So he is interested in both?” he asked with burgeoning jealousy. Anders was a favorite of many of the mages, he often saw him being petted; and now that he thought about it, being pulled into dark corners.  
“He saw you,” he said, seeing the look on the man's face again. “I'll kill...” Bronwynn was standing in front of him and pulling his arms around her waist.  
“He'd have to get me to agree to that, you know,” she said when he'd stopped talking. He was still breathing heavily and it was clear he was still angry. “You should have knocked like you said you would if someone was with you,” she said sardonically. His eyes widened as his anger was re-directed back to her.  
“You were standing in the middle of the room basically naked,” he said furiously, if quietly, as he set her away from him.  
“I was alone in my quarters, I wasn't expecting company, the door was locked... How am I at fault for you and him walking in without knocking?” she asked with innocence. He drew his left hand down his face and took a deep breath.  
“I know you knew he was coming here with me, Bronwynn, as I told you he wanted to speak with you before we left,” Bronwynn opened her mouth to say something and he slashed his hand in the air to cut her off. “Don't, you wanted us to catch you like that!” Bronwynn was grateful he had locked the door, otherwise that shout would have been heard out in the hall, and probably on the floors above and below them as well.  
“Not exactly,” she tried, in vain, to diminish his anger. “Cullen, I didn't mean for both of you to catch me like that!” she cried, backing away from him as he prowled towards her. It didn't stop him, nor did it cool his anger. Instead he began removing his armor.  
“Take it off, witch” he said. Her heart started pounding; she shook her head emphatically in denial. “Take it off, Bron, do not make me do it for you,” she tried to move around him but he simply stood his ground.  
“Cullen, I swear, I thought I would surprise just you!” she began fumbling with the belts of her armor, she wasn't crying but she could feel tears burning. “Please don't hurt me,” she whispered. He was unmoved. She got the breastplate unbuckled but left it on; Cullen was having none of that and took one long stride to reach her, jerking off the breastplate in one smooth move. “Breeches, woman,” he ordered. She gulped and looked down; praying she had gotten her boots on. No such luck. With trembling fingers she unlaced the breeches, his face was stormy and his eyes were hard and cold as ice chips. She had stopped moving to unlace the breeches and took another quick step back when he invaded her space again. Her back hit a bookshelf and he leaned over her to pull the breeches off her. She was in her bra and panty once more, panting in fear and confusion. She wanted to trust that he wasn't going to hurt her, but she'd never seen him this angry before; and Andraste save her the sight of him like this had her aroused – what was wrong with her?  
Cullen stood, hovering over his mage, he could hear her panicked breaths and part of him wanted to comfort her. Assure her he wasn't going to hurt her, but in his anger most of him was enjoying the power. He could see the tears as they began to fall from her eyes, but he could also smell her arousal. Leaning forward he placed his lips next to her ear. He was close enough to feel her shiver when his breath caressed her skin, he was glad she was too frightened to look at his crotch. She'd know then he was more interested in pleasuring her than hurting her.  
“Turn around” he ordered her gruffly, he heard her suck in a sharp breath as she tried to deny him. He placed his hands on her shoulders and gripped her firmly to turn her so her back was to him. This close he could see the leather binding that tied her brassiere; he could see the strip of cloth that covered her backside. Cloth that was the same creamy color as her skin. Cloth that from a distance was invisible. He stepped close enough that he could feel the heat of her skin against his own, gripping the shelf even with her breasts he leaned in to whisper against her ear again.  
“This view is nice, witch woman, very entrancing;” he took one hand off the shelf and traced her spine with one finger. Her soft cry goaded him on. When he reached the cloth that bound her panty he dragged his finger back up her spine. “A view I do not appreciate sharing,” he said to her, his breathing becoming ragged as his mind began contemplating how he would fit inside her. He had yet to take her from behind and the thought made his vision blurry and his thoughts primal.  
“Cullen?” her voice was deep with her own arousal; but there was enough fear there, still, to trigger his need to protect her, even from himself.  
“Yes, my love?” he whispered against her ear, taking his other hand and trailing it down her side. “Let me love you, I won't hurt you.” He then traced his fingers across her stomach and under the leather holding her brassiere over her breasts. He skimmed the soft skin before lifting the offending cloth up to uncover her left breast and cupping the mound firmly. Her soft moans were heady to his senses.  
“You like this, my mage?” Her head moved in the negative, then in the positive. He chuckled softly and leaned forward once more, this time to lick the point where her neck and shoulder met. Her breath hitched. His right hand traced the cloth down her bottom, slipped under it and followed the cleft of her buttocks to find the entrance to her pussy. He groaned and his desire rose higher when he encountered no resistance as he pumped his middle finger inside her and felt her wetness.  
“You say you wanted me to see you in this state of undress?” he panted as he fought to plunge into her. He was still only touching her with his hands and mouth; not holding her body was proving more difficult than he had thought.  
“Yes,” she answered with a strangled sound that was half sob half moan. He slipped his index finger inside her passage along with his middle and was rewarded for his restraint when she clenched his fingers and drew them higher into her. She cried out; again with a half sob half moan, as just that triggered her orgasm.  
“That's right, come for me,” he breathed into her ear. With his left hand he undid the laces of his own breeches, his member springing free of his clothing to brush against her bottom.  
“Cullen?” she asked when she felt the heaviness of him pressing against the cleft of her buttocks. He kissed the side of her neck and traced a small line between each place he kissed. With his right hand he pulled the cloth of her panty to the side.  
“Want me to stop?” he asked with the confidence of a lover who knows his partner. The adamant shake of her head made him smile, it was brief however since the heat of her on the head of his dick was goading him on. He bent his knees slightly, lifted her hips and plunged into her wet heat in one smooth motion. Even from this angle her body took all of him, he sheathed himself fully inside her hot, wet, tight passage. Both he and she sighed as he filled her.  
“I want you to remember you belong only to me,” he rumbled into her ear, enjoying the feel of her tremors. “Hold on to the shelving, my sweet,” he firmed his grip on her hips and started to move.  
Bronwynn cried out with each stroke. The head of his dick kept brushing the sensitive area just inside her passage as he withdrew from her and as he thrust into her again. She had a white knuckle grip on the bookshelf in front of her and the feel of the books brushing her nipples with each thrust; his fingers digging into her hips, he had his forehead on the back of her neck so she felt every heavy exhalation as he pumped his hips. She could still feel restrained anger in his grip and breathing. She herself was gasping in between each thrust of his hips.  
“Cullen, oh sweet Maker,” she sobbed “I'm sorry!” Her body convulsed around his as she orgasmed again. Cullen kept stroking into her as she fell apart; when her body sagged against the bookshelf he slid his left hand up her chest to pull her back against him and his right hand under the cloth that covered her vagina in the front. His hand was large enough to cover the triangle of hair, he slid his index and middle finger between her passion swollen lips and began teasing her clit again. She was moaning and shaking her head against his chest.  
“Mine,” he growled in her ear.  
“Yours,” she sobbed, her orgasm continued as he reached his peak with her affirmation. The two of them sank to the floor, covered in sweat and panting. She was still crying a few minutes later and repeating she was sorry. When Cullen realized what she was saying he felt like a demon.  
“No, my love, don't” he murmured as he pulled turned her to face him. “Don't cry, please,” he began to rock her.  
“I really didn't know you were going to bring him in right then,” she whispered.  
“I know, love, I believe you,” he cursed himself. “I got jealous,” he admitted.  
“I gathered that,” she said. He put his forehead against hers.  
“I keep hurting you, don't I?” he asked. Her eyes widened.  
“I got frightened, ma vhenan, you didn't hurt me,” she insisted. Cullen chuckled at the affront in her voice.  
“Then why are you crying?” he asked.  
“I guess because you were so angry,” she said after a moment’s thought.  
“I was jealous, my love, not angry,” he groused. “I didn't like that mage seeing you naked. Besides, you didn't hear what he was saying,”  
“Was it crude?” Bronwynn asked with interest.  
“No, but it was...” he tried to think of a way to express what he'd thought about the things Anders had said. “He didn't really say anything rude, Bron; but I still wanted to lay him out for saying anything. Mostly because he saw you,” he looked into her face and frowned when he saw what looked suspiciously like a pleased grin on her face.  
“You're pleased with yourself now, aren't you?” he asked with mock anger. The grin spread when she realized he really hadn't meant to frighten her.  
“You decided to 'force' me because I accidentally let another man see my naked backside?” she asked her Templar.  
“Well, that and I really wanted to impress upon you that you're mine and no one elses,” he said. The gentlemanly part of him wanted to crawl into a hole when he realized how that sounded; but the possessive warrior he was had to make sure she did understand – he wasn't sharing, he wasn't giving her up, he wasn't letting her go. She gave him an even more pleased smile before wriggling herself closer.  
“Well, then I'm sorry I made you feel badly about staking your claim,” she whispered against his lips just before kissing him.  
They both heard a key turn in the lock seconds before the door opened.  
“Go!” he growled, shoving her towards a room as he stood. She stumbled into the nearest room as he put himself to rights.  
“Knight-Lieutenant,” he heard his Knight-Captain say. “I would like to go over the equipment you've requested. When Cullen turned toward Hadley in suspicion he saw his Knight-Commander right behind the man. He relaxed slightly; although he was still irritated. Greagoir and Irving had both been coming into their room without notice far more often than they needed to since Bronwynn had figured out how to take a mage's ability to use magic away without making them Tranquil. Cullen suspected Greagoir did it to prevent the two of them from having sex. If that was the case it obviously wasn't working. Two years with his mage had diminished his desire for her not one iota; and Cullen knew he would find more creative ways of having her if Greagoir or Irving tried to prevent them from being together.  
“Of course, Knight-Captain. What equipment are you questioning?” He asked the man. He chose to ignore the suspicious look both men gave the half dressed Templar. Bronwynn had made it into what he thought of as her dressing room since she slept with him; so they didn't know for sure what they had been up to.  
Hadley wanted to ask why he was undressed in the middle of the day but then realized he didn't see the mage this Templar was in charge of so decided against it. Had there been any wrong-doing on the Templar's part Irving would have said something to Greagoir.  
“Do you really think you're going to need two, two man tents?” Greagoir frowned when he heard that.  
“Well, since the mage needs to have a tent to sleep in and I need to have a tent to sleep in, two tents seem to be the correct count.” He was being a bit facetious, true; but the question seemed odd. He looked at Greagoir from the corner of his eye and saw the older man had a speculative look.  
“Oh, come on, Knight-Commander! You did not actually bring the Knight-Captain in here to ask these inane questions!” Cullen exclaimed with incredulity. Hadley looked confused for a moment, then realized what Cullen meant. Bronwynn had come back out of the room, dressed in a newer set of leathers. She was in the process of braiding her hair and she looked at the three men curiously when she heard Cullen's exclamation.  
“What are you talking about?” she asked. She was amazed to see Greagoir turn a dull red. “Well?” she looked to Hadley for an answer, his face was screwed up and red in embarrassment as well. When she turned to her lover he threw out an exasperated hand.  
“Greagoir wanted to know why we asked for two tents instead of one,” he answered. She raised one eyebrow and looked at the Templar Commander.  
“Because I need a tent to sleep in too?” she asked the man.  
“I don't believe that for a moment, Enchanter,” Greagoir rumbled.  
“I can't want my own tent?” she asked, sounding truly confused.  
“What can you possibly want to do with a second tent?” he asked her bluntly.  
“To sleep in,” she answered.  
“Bullshite” Bronwynn's eyes opened in surprise at his language.  
“Fine, I plan on using it to keep my experiment covered once we reach Denerim,” she admitted  
“You'll be in a building, Enchanter.” Knight-Captain Hadley reminded her.  
“No I won't, I'll be outside Denerim, Knight-Captain; King Cailin gave me permission to research the plant life outside the northern walls by the Amaranthine,” that she was proud of this was clear. That the Templar's didn't understand was also clear.  
“We've secured you a room within Fort Drakon,” Greagoir reminded her.  
“Yes, and I'm certain they are very nice quarters in the dungeon,” she said with a perfectly straight face and dry voice.  
“I would never allow...” he caught a glint in her eye. “You're teasing me,” Greagoir said, she nodded. “Fine, you want to sleep in the rough, you won't like it,” he told the young woman. She was a mage and had been coddled her whole life, camping out would not suit her.  
“I am sure you're correct, Knight-Commander,” she nodded. “But since I need to actually be in the 'wilds' to study these particular plants, I'll just have to suffer.” She spread her raspberry lips in a vacuous smile. Not one man in the room thought for a second she was in any way as innocent as that look made her appear. Greagoir threw his hands up in defeat.  
“Fine, but I want to a full report for every day you are out there!” he demanded. Bronwynn shook her head in confusion.  
“Knight-Commander, have I done something to upset you?” she asked.  
Greagoir turned a dull red once again.  
“No,” he said gruffly. “I am concerned about this research you're doing,” Bronwynn smiled sardonically.  
“Ahh, the Revered Mother is getting onto you about allowing we dangerous mages to do more than pray for death?” All three men gasped and glared at her.  
“You didn't hear the lecture I got two days ago, ser knights, don't give me those looks!” she quipped at them and flounced out of the room.  
“You will keep her away from the other mages?” Hadley asked the lieutenant. Cullen snorted derisively.  
“Enchanter Bronwynn will use whatever she can to get her data, but usually she avoids other mages outside the Circle. Apostates or no, she is very wary of others attempting to steal her research,” he advised the other man. Hadley nodded and he maneuvered their commander out of the room. Cullen heard him telling their commanding officer that he didn't appreciate being used to embarrassed the lieutenant. Cullen smiled thoughtfully as he re-locked the door.  
Bronwynn came back out of the room and smiled prettily.  
“How'd I do?” she asked. Cullen gave her a broad grin.  
“How did you manage to get into those leathers so fast?” he asked her. He had bought them for her to celebrate her birthday. He had been shocked when she cried. No one had ever given her a gift before, she had said. Of course, she had also given him a wonderful thank you.  
She smiled slyly and crooked her finger at him. He willingly walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her; encountering nothing but her chilled skin. His mouth dropped open in shock.  
“Bron!” he growled, thinking perhaps he should have meant to scare her.  
“Hey! I knew once I heard Greagoir and Hadley that there were no mages who would try and see through any illusion!” she said in self-defense. “You Templar's only suppress magic when you know it's in use and it's actively hostile; no one knew it was active and this wasn't hostile!” she finished. When he still looked like thunder she pressed her apparently still covered by leather breasts firmly against his chest as she stood on her toes to press her lips to his.  
“I didn't have time dress, and if I hadn't come out dressed in traveling clothes, Greagoir would have been an even bigger ass,” she reminded him. He gave into the temptation of her lips and kissed her. He had to concede her point, as well.  
“Fine, I can accept the need,” he frowned down at the woman he was holding. “How often do you do this?” he asked.  
“What do you mean?” she asked, confusion clear on her face.  
“You don't walk around with just an illusion covering yourself?” he asked again, her eyes widened in horror.  
“Are you nuts?” she asked in return. “I wouldn't do that!” her face had turned bright red in embarrassment. Cullen laughed; partly because of her embarrassment and partly in relief.  
“Good,” he chuckled before pulling her tightly to him and kissing her again. He groaned when she wiggled closer to him.  
“Enough, woman, we have to finish loading the gear,” he pushed her gently away from him, only to see that she had dropped the illusion. He closed his eyes and prayed for patience. He opened his eyes when she giggled just before backing away from him, come and get me in her eyes.  
“Bron,” he said warningly. Her smile widened as she sat in a chair and opened her legs. The view was stirring, he had to admit. The hair covering her vagina was two shades darker than the hair on her head and he could see she was aroused. He didn't move, as badly as he wanted to. He wanted to see how far she'd go.  
Bronwynn wasn't sure if she could actually do what she was thinking about doing, but he was watching her and his eyes were glowing with hunger. She placed her hands on her thighs and ran them down her legs to her knees, opening her legs even more. His eyes caressed her vagina with heat, she saw his hands clench and unclench but he didn't move toward her. When his eyes focused back on her hands she drew them up the inside of her thighs; she was keeping her eyes on his face and seeing him following her hands with those glowing orbs had her breathing a little more heavily. She saw his arms flex as he clenched his fingers again, so she stopped short of actually touching herself. Instead she traced her fingers around her pussy and up her sides; she didn't repress the shiver of excitement that her fingers were causing. He didn't miss it; or the fact that her eyes had half closed. He turned away long enough to grab another chair, the first one he grabbed was one of the arm chairs by the fireplace. Her eyes were wide when he turned around and placed the chair exactly where he had been standing. He forced himself not to throw himself into it and he made himself sit in a relaxed, wide-legged position. He was not going to touch her, yet.  
Bronwynn licked her lower lip then her upper lip before taking a deep breath. He was going to watch her and she could feel the wetness between her legs increasing with her arousal. Bronwynn had stopped moving her hands on her lower rib-cage when he had turned around. She saw his eyes flit between where her hands were and her breasts, saw him note the movement of her breasts as she took deeper breaths. His eyes flicked up to her face and his eyes turned an even darker blue, the heat that lit them from within was an even greater goad.  
She ran her fingers across her stomach to cross her arms before dragging them up her sides again. The movement pressed her breasts together as well as lifting them. She saw his hands grab the arms of the chair he was sitting in a white knuckle grip. When she lightly ran her fingers underneath her breasts and as she uncrossed her arms she let the weight of them fill her palms, holding them up as an offering. His breathing was becoming harsh, but he did not move toward her. She played her fingers over her nipples, gasping aloud from the jolt of pleasure that shot through her from her breasts down to her vagina. Her hips wriggled without her noticing and his eyes dropped to the movement. Her legs were still wide, the petals of her pussy open enough for him to see the glistening dew of her arousal. He was already throbbing painfully, and she hadn't actually done anything very risqué.  
Bronwynn; still watching her lover's eyes, had stopped caressing her breasts when he dropped his eyes to her vagina. He closed his eyes and she watched as his nostrils flared when he took several deep breaths. She allowed her own gaze to wander his body. He had only re-laced his breeches from earlier, his broad chest was bare down to his waist. The muscles of his abdomen were clenched tightly as he fought to maintain his control and she could see the bulge of his penis in his breeches. A dry clicking sound escaped her throat as he pulsed. His blue eyes snapped open and when he saw where she was looking he almost lost his control.  
Bronwynn licked her lips again before deciding to push a little farther. She lay back so her upper back was against the upper part of the chair, her hips pushed forward until she was on the edge of the seat. With her left hand still fondling her left breast she slowly slid her right hand down the center of her torso. She half closed her eyes to watch him, her mouth open slightly and her tongue running over her bottom lip again and again. Her stomach tightened in anticipation as her fingers drifted through the tuft of hair at the apex of her legs. She saw his own stomach tighten, watched his fingers flexing. Neither of them noticed how their breathing had synched.  
Her long fingers traced the labia of her pussy, and he could see every shiver and every tremble of her legs and stomach as she teased him. When her fingers began a second round he was ready to pull her onto the floor and use his tongue on her when she spoke.  
“I used to sit in a chair in front of my mirror,” her voice was deepened from desire, and she spoke just loudly enough for him to hear her.  
“You would be in your bed, moaning while you masturbated. I could hear you and I would get so warm.” Her legs opened all the way, she was completely open to his view, her fingers drew lines up the inside of her lips.  
“The first time I thought about it; really thought about what you were doing, I wondered if it would feel as good if I masturbated when you did. I opened my legs like this and looked at myself. I saw how pink I am,” she spread her lips open more with pale fingers.  
“I could smell my arousal, I decided to see how it felt; touching myself while listening to you as you were,” Bronwynn used her middle finger to press her clit. He knew that cry. He ached daily to hear that cry as often as he could drive her to make it.  
“Cullen,” she was panting. “I couldn't believe how good it felt, so I did it again.” she suited action to words. “I kept rubbing my clit, and I watched myself in the mirror; listening as you were reaching your own climax,” Her legs locked, her head fell back; though she could still see him, her mouth rounded into an 'O' and she cried out with such pleasure it was all Cullen could do to stay in his seat.  
She kept rubbing, albeit more slowly, her breaths coming in soft pants.  
“It wasn't enough, I wanted more, so I did... as I imagined you being...” she showed him, thrusting two fingers into her passage and that was all Cullen could stand. He had pulled her hand from her pussy and licked the juices from her before he even realized he had moved. He had ripped open the laces on his breeches in a rush and thrust into her as he sucked her fingers into his mouth. He roared as he came, drowning out her own cry as she came with him. He pulled her onto the floor as he collapsed. When their breathing had evened out she started giggling. He started laughing with her.  
“Witch,” he grumbled in between his chuckles.  
“Yours,” she affirmed. He smiled and held her for a moment more before swatting her naked bottom.  
“Pack, woman, or we'll never get out of here.” Her startled squeal was followed by laughter.  
“Yes Ser, Ser Templar, Ser!” she teased. He shook his head and went to finish his own packing. They had a long trip ahead of them.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

 

Two days of travel and Cullen was surprised at how far they had gotten. Of course there had been no privacy for Bronwynn and himself as Greagoir had sent three more Templars with them for the travel. Bronwynn was never still, either. She was constantly roaming off the road in search of herbs and weeds. The female templar that had accompanied them had assigned herself the role of baby sitter for the mage. Bronwynn found this amusing. Neither she nor Cullen informed the other three Templars of Cullen's edict to his red haired mage.

“If I lose sight of you I will bind your hands under you, I will gag your sweet mouth so only I can hear your pleasure, and then I will trace every one of my favorite body parts of yours with my tongue. When you are a breath away from coming apart from the pleasure I'm going to stop,” Her eyes had crossed from the thought.

“Wait, you mean, you'd leave me lying there, naked, moaning, squirming,” she tried to; and succeeded in; make it sound like that would be more torturous to him.

“My mage, my heart, my love, if I lose sight of you I won't be able to help you if someone tries to hurt you; if I lose sight of you I won't be there to keep you safe from bears and wolves. If I lose sight of you Bronwynn Amell, there is a small chance I could lose you. If I lose you I will go mad. So think, my mage, do you want me to go mad? Then understand,” he continued as he shook her head from side to side in the negative. He had her pinned beneath him for this conversation and had even gotten her hands tied above her head. “I will torture you if I lose sight of you” He then showed her just how he would torture her. It was a good thing they had decided to leave the next morning.

Bronwynn wasn't out of sight, although she was dangerously close to being too far away in any case. He had taken four steps off the road when he saw her head snap up and her staff appeared. She glanced back to locate him and suddenly she was behind him. He'd never seen her do that but ignored it in favor of the group of bandits that were boiling over the hill. They looked wrong though.

“Those aren't people!” Bronwynn shouted from behind him while throwing up a wall of flame before them. The other three Templars ranged to either side of the mage and one stood next to Cullen. Bronwynn felt them draw on their abilities and was glad it wasn't directed at her. She added her magic defenses to Cullen's own armor, even though he was wearing the heavy armor of the Templar order. He and the other warrior planted themselves in front of Bronwynn. She knew that it would take a seriously concerted effort to move either of them, though she was sure the younger Templar would break before Cullen did. He would only move if it meant getting her away from the danger. The other two were archers and they had begun firing almost as soon as she was behind Cullen. The great thing about Templars, they were accustomed to working with mages.

Bronwynn continued to throw fire into the group of things that were attempting to surround them.

“Archers, on the hill!” The female Templar shouted. “Ten O'clock” she said, Bronwynn looked and saw three large figures with heavy longbows taking aim. The Templar on her left watched as she froze all three of them with a single ice spell before he let fly with an arrow. He hit the archer on the far left and grinned when it exploded upon the impact. Shards of ice flying everywhere caused many of the creatures to pause in their attack. The female archer had fired right behind him and the middle archer also exploded upon the impact. He let fly with a third arrow, ending the third archer on the hill in yet a third explosion. The two archers turned their attention back to the field.

Cullen and the other warrior were holding their short line admirably; yet they were clearly outnumbered. Bronwynn’s spells were not only holding many of the creatures back, she was actually killing just as many. When the archers made the decision to hit the creatures she was freezing they all noticed how quickly many of the monsters began to flee. Cullen and his partner were able to separate after a while and to step forward to take on the diminishing menace. Another ten minutes saw the threat gone and five exhausted people looking around themselves in slight shock.

Bronwynn was the only one not panting heavily, even though she was just as exhausted as the rest. There was an odor now that hadn’t been there before, and it wasn’t just blood.

“Templars! Let’s get away from here!” she called. All four could hear her unease, but Cullen wanted a look at what they had been fighting.

“In a moment, Enchanter,” he called to her. He didn’t see her frowning in concern, he also didn’t see the female Templar sway suddenly. He was too busy looking at the last creature he had killed.

The body was humanoid, muscular, and reeked of sickness.

“Maker,” he said in surprise. “I think it’s a Darkspawn!” he exclaimed. The other Templar was nearly as white as his tabard when he gave his agreement.

“Ser Cullen!” Bronwynn called, an urgency in her voice he’d not heard before.

“What?” he asked as he turned, in time to see the Templar who had given Bronwynn so much trouble falling to her knees. Bronwynn was trying in vain to pull her out of the area. Cullen and the other two ran forward to assist her.

“Where is her injury?” Cullen asked as they grabbed her up to follow the mage. He couldn’t see any blood on the archer. She was clearly ill; however. He could feel the heat from her skin through her armor, her eyes were turning yellow as he watched. He looked up at Bronwynn to see her sliding to her knees on the road while pulling the pack she had on her back off and going through it quickly. The men lay the now delirious woman on the road in front of the mage. Bronwynn suddenly jerked away from the Templar and threw herself across the road and vomited. Cullen kept himself from leaping to help her only because she grabbed a water skin and rinsed her mouth out and immediately went back to the Templar.

“Are you okay, Enchanter?” The other archer asked her with concern. When she raised her face to look at him, Cullen swallowed a curse. Her green eyes were filled with tears and she looked very ill herself.

“I need one of you to head back to the Tower, I know it’s a two day trip, but we are going to need help from Anders. He’s a better healer than I am,” she said instead of responding to the query. Cullen was afraid the men would take offense to her basically ordering them to go fetch another mage. He opened his mouth to actually reinforce the command when the second archer nodded his head and turned to grab his own pack and took off at a trot. Bronwynn nodded and reached down with her hands; which were now covered in a green light. Bronwynn was cursing as she ran her hands over the now unconscious Templar.

“Bronwynn, what is it?” Cullen asked, not caring if the other Templar heard the familiarity.

“I don’t think I can save her, Cullen,” she was crying over a Templar; Cullen was amazed by her compassion for a woman who had been intent of finding fault with everything his mage did. Cullen hunched down to look her in the eye.

“You, my love, can do anything you set your mind to,” he told her. When she looked into his blue eyes she saw his sincerity. He meant it, he believed she could do it. She wouldn’t fail him without a fight, then.

Bronwynn could see the disease in the Templar, it was spreading so fast it frightened her. She decided not to fight the edges; instead she reached into the center of the disease with her ‘hands’ and began pulling it out of the Templar. She was looking at this with what she was calling mage sight so did not know that both Templars were shocked and horrified by what they could see. When she had pulled all of the diseased material she pulsed a healing energy into it, only to watch it multiply. Her eyes narrowed in annoyance.

Cullen was holding his breath with fear as he watched what appeared to be a black cloth-like material flow over Bronwynn; he could see pulses of green light as she tried using magic on it. The other Templar had drawn his sword and was holding his shield at the ready.

“She’s not going to attack you!” Cullen barked at the man. The Templar looked at Cullen, his dark pale behind his helmet.

“No, Ser, she won’t; but what if that stuff does?” The senior knight wanted to scoff, but couldn’t find a logical reason to deny the man’s fear. Mainly because he himself was afraid of what the substance would do.

They heard Bronwynn let out a curse; the younger Templar blushed at the word where Cullen was surprised she even knew the word. Following the curse they heard her say ‘oh-no-you-don’t’ and then a piercing white light. Both men covered their eyes when the light began to shine through the blackness covering her. The light speared into the Templar lying on the ground in front of the mage and they could all hear a shrieking sound that seemed to come from all around but far away. When the light faded from view, Bronwynn had collapsed upon the ground but the Templar was blinking awake. Cullen leaned forward to check the Templar, she appeared to be disoriented but fine. He stood and stepped over her to turn his mage to her back so he could check her head.

She was breathing, but it was very shallow breaths; when the Templar she had just saved started asking how they could have let the blood-mage work on her, he almost backhanded her. He was shocked when the other Templar growled at her to watch her tongue.

“Enchanter Bronwynn saved your life, bitch,” the man hissed. “She didn’t even use the power of the blood of the slain to do it!” The woman had sat up and was staring wide eyed at the warrior. “You spend all your time looking for blood-mages and refuse to see the good people in the circles,” He pointed to where the Enchanter lay, unconscious.

“You should be dead, and the woman had no real reason to save you; so hold your tongue, she’s worth ten of you,” the junior Templar stepped passed his sister Templar and knelt to help Cullen check on Bronwynn.

“She’s breathing, at least,” Cullen said softly. He checked her head and found no lumps or bleeding.

“I’ll look for a camping spot, Lieutenant,” the other man said. Cullen nodded his thanks as he began wrapping the mage up to keep her warm. The female Templar sat looking at the unconscious woman as if she’d never seen such a thing.

“Get your arse up, private, get off the road, and get yourself covered up; I’ll not let you undo her work,” Cullen snapped at the woman.

“I don’t understand, Lieutenant,” her voice sounded as confused as her gaze. “Why would she help a Templar?”

“Why wouldn’t she help a Templar?” Cullen retorted as he gathered up Bronwynn’s bag along with his own. He carefully lifted the slight woman into his arms, holding her close to make sure he could still feel her breaths.

“Knight-Lieutenant, we all know she’s a blood-mage. Uldred has told us so,” Cullen stopped and turned to look at the woman who wore the same armor he did.

“Okay, so let me get this straight,” he said to her with incredulity.

“You have absolutely NO actual evidence that this mage has performed blood magic, and plenty of reports with the suspicions of your seniors of Uldred’s complicity in blood-magic. Yet you’re going to believe the man your Knight-Commander suspects?” Cullen asked her. The young woman stared at her senior officer blankly for a few moments. Then it seemed the question clicked; as well as the sarcasm with which it was asked.

“I-I-I am not sure why I believed him,” she admitted. “I-“ she shook her head. “There is a strange feeling in my head,” she told him. Cullen nodded and sighed; another thing they’d not be able to actually prove Uldred did or ordered done.

“Well think about it, Templar,” he ordered before moving forward once more. The sooner he got Bronwynn near a fire the better.

The two of them moved south along the road until the other Templar rejoined them. He led them to a deep cave that had apparently been used as a campsite before. Three days south of the Tower just when the road turns toward Lothering and they are attacked by Darkspawn of all things. His mage risks her life for an unappreciative woman; and now he prays it's just exhaustion that has made her unconconscious. The three Templars work quickly to get a fire going and the sleeping mats rolled out. They pulled out the rations and water and settled in. Cullen ordered the warrior to keep an eye on Bronwynn and their sister in arms and he went out on watch. He felt the exhaustion of the battle from earlier dragging at him, but he couldn't leave them unprotected.

He didn't patrol far from the cave, in case they were attacked from the cave. He fret the entire time Bronwynn about leaving her alone with the Templars; he worried the woman would attempt to harm her, that the other Templar wouldn't notice if she'd stopped breathing. When Cullen realized he was thinking more about what could happen to the woman he loved than actually watching for attack, he went back into the cave. His eyes went first to the bedroll he had placed the mage on. She was still out, but he could actually see her chest moving so she was getting better. He was able to relax slightly with that knowledge. He then turned to the other Templars. Private Shana and Corporal Dean were clearly on the outs at this point. Dean was currently squatting by the fire, half facing the other Templar and half watching Bronwynn. When Cullen came in both turned toward him with guilty looks.

“She's breathing more easily, Lieutenant. She still hasn't woken, though.” Dean told him. He nodded curtly.

“Shana, how are you feeling?” He asked the woman. In the firelight she looked very young.

“Fine, Ser,” she said. Cullen watched her eyes. She was lying, although she was lying to cover her pride.

“Very well, move your bedroll to the front of the cave. You're on watch until midnight,” he ordered. The woman looked both affronted and relieved that he wasn't ordering her on patrol. “I expect you to keep your eyes open until you're relieved, Private.” She nodded curtly, but her shoulders had given marginally; a sign she was feeling more secure in her role. Cullen was glad he'd given her that; although he was still going to have to find a way to discuss her assumptions about Bronwynn. He saw Dean's eyes following the female Templar and wondered if he had other worries.

“Dean, you were awfully harsh on Shana earlier,” Cullen said quietly as he knelt down to check on Bronwynn once more.

“She has been spouting that as well as other such nonsense for months, Ser. Always about any mage or Templar that Uldred and his cronies are upset with or wish to have harmed,” Dean's disgust with the other Templar was clear.

“Uldred hasn't tried to convince you?” Cullen asked.

“That he's not a blood-mage?” Dean made a rude noise. “I may not have caught the man; I may have no actual proof; but I know he's not right.” The Corporal was shaking his head in derision.

“When did he start convincing her?”

“She just got assigned to Kinloch Hold six months ago. She was looking over the reports a month in and he had that mage all the girls go crazy over; not Anders, the red head boy; come and start talking to her,” Dean sighed.

“I know we're supposed to keep our distance, Lieutenant, but sometimes it's hard,” Cullen gave a wry chuckle. “I don't think it should be an issue, but then again, my sister is a mage,” He shrugged.

“We are human, we cannot always avoid attraction,” Cullen admitted, running his fingers across his mage's forehead. Dean nodded his agreement.

“I guess Shana got interested in the mage, and the mage used that to get her listening to Uldred,” He frowned when he thought about it. “It doesn't make sense, though, Lieutenant. I've never actually seen her with any of them, not even the red haired mage boy,” Dean admitted.

“I haven't either, Corporal, doesn't mean it hasn't happened,” he looked toward the front of the cave, he could see the Private's shadow. “I know there are ways and places to meet that are hard to find. All we can do is make sure we keep faith,” Dean sighed.

“I have seen Enchanter Bronwynn stare down older men who were in a towering rage. She took on two mages in the fire room when they ambushed her while you were distracted,” Dean laughed softly. “Lieutenant, I've seen her hide the youngsters from the scary Knight-Lieutenant as you passed by her during the lessons she gives. I know any mage could be a blood-mage; but I cannot see her causing harm to anyone for a boost in her magical power,” Cullen laughed as well.

“You and I agree, she would rather allow herself to be killed than use blood-magic,” Cullen smiled down at his mage, and then frowned.

“Of course, sometimes I think her desire to win will be the death of me,” he admitted. “You didn't appear to be shocked by my faux pas earlier, why is that?” he asked the Templar with no small amount of sudden suspicion.

“Because most of us figured the two of you had to be in a relationship,” Dean said. “It was the only reason we could think of that she would trust you as much as she does. We all know what she went through before you were assigned to her. She actually lets you touch her, she only lets the youngest of the mages do that,” Dean informed him. Cullen's eyes widened in surprise. He hadn't realized that.

“So you hearing me call her my love?”

“Just means she will always have the protection she needs from both herself and those who would harm her,” Dean shrugged as he answered. “No one who has half a brain really cares, Lieutenant.” Cullen nodded, partly in relief. The Knight-Commander knowing about them had been one thing, and if he was honest with himself, the one person he had been most concerned about knowing. The rest of the Templars here in the Circle could make his life difficult, but he was more than willing to deal with that.

Bronwynn moaned and stirred, her eyes fluttering as she began to wake up. Cullen reached for his water skin for if she was thirsty when she woke. He helped her sit up, slowly.

“Is the Templar all right?” she asked in a hoarse voice.

“Yes, my love, she's fine,” Cullen answered. Bronwynn's russet brows drew together in a small frown. Cullen handed her his water skin and helped her drink. She looked at the junior Templar and then up at Cullen. He didn't look worried about the other Templar so she decided not to worry either.

“Where are we? Where is she?” Cullen shushed her questions.

“We are in a cave off the road. You were unconconscious and I wanted to be sure you were all right,” Bronwynn grimaced when she heard the worry in his voice. “Shana is at the entrance to the cave keeping watch,” she opened her mouth and took a new breath. “I have her sitting, not patrolling,” he finished. She sighed in relief and nodded.

“I think I over did it this time, vhenan,” she said wearily as she leaned into him. He simply nodded, he couldn't let her know just how afraid he'd been. It was Dean who answered for them both, however.

“Enchanter Bronwynn, you scared the shit out of me,” the younger man said with feeling.

“Raised near Orzammar, were you Corporal?” Bronwynn asked with wry humor. He blinked at her in confusion. “You said 'shit' not 'shite',” she observed. The tan man grinned at her, even teeth gleaming white in the firelight.

“Aye, I grew up in the human town just outside of the surface market,” she smiled back at him sleepily. “A question, Enchanter,” he said. Her eyes opened again to look at him politely.

“Yes Ser Knight?”

“What was that blackness you pulled out of Private Shana?”

“What are you talking about?” she asked him, her brows furrowed in confusion.

“When you were healing her, Enchanter, you seemed to pull this black cloth-like substance out of her middle. What was it?” Her green eyes had widened in shock, she looked up at Cullen for confirmation.

“I was going to wait for you to be more awake to ask, but yes, that is what we saw,” he admitted, glaring at the younger knight for bringing it up so soon.

“But you – you couldn't have actually seen it!” she exclaimed. The two men frowned at her. “You really did?” she asked them and gave a strangled sound when they both nodded.

“I didn't see blackness, for me it was a sick yellow and black cloth-like material,” she shivered. “It was not pleasant,” she added almost too softly for the other two to hear. She took a deep breath and looked back at the men.

“I don't know what it was, though,” she answered his original question.

“I wonder,” Cullen contemplated aloud. “We were fighting Darkspawn,” Bronwynn jerked her head up to look at him.

“Is that what they were?” Her voice held a note of excitement Cullen didn't want to hear.

“You are not going to look,” Cullen said in a tone of authority that Bronwynn decided not to ignore. She did pout, however.

“Fine,” she said with a teasing glint in her eyes. Both men laughed at her when she spoiled the look with a yawn. “Oh, fine, don't let me see the interesting things,” she quipped with another pout. Dean laughed and moved over to another bedroll spread out near the wall. Far enough away the two lovers had the illusion of privacy. She yawned again, leaning more heavily upon Cullen's side. He leaned down and whispered in her ear.

“I would think I show you interesting things often, my love” he breathed in her ear, making her giggle.

“Yes, but since I can't see that right now, the Darkspawn will have to suffice,” she laughingly replied. He kissed her cheek and hugged her to him.

“Let me get you something to eat before you fall asleep, love.” She nodded and managed to sit up on her own. She didn't tell him the world was spinning and that she felt nauseous. It looked like Dean had managed to make a broth out of the rations and when Cullen placed a bowl in her hands the smell woke her up a little more. Her stomach made an embarrassing sound that Cullen ignored. He gave her some of the bread that was left from the last two days for her to dip in the broth. She began sopping up the liquid and eating the bread a little more quickly than she should have, but managed not to choke on it. Cullen smiled his crookedly at her while she ate, steadily relaxing as she became more aware.

“Cullen,” she said softly, keeping her voice down so Dean wouldn't hear her.

“Yes?”

“Did you know you called me your love in front of the other Templar?” His smile widened as he sat next to her.

“I would say that I didn't know, but I did know. I could say I didn't care, which would be the truth. I could also say that I know he will say nothing about us; but that would be a lie,” he said to her. She grinned when she realized he was teasing her.

“You aren't worried he'll cause trouble?”

“According to him, Bron; the others have figured it out and don't actually care,” he replied. She, who always had to think some things through, thought about the implications.

“So, what does that mean?” she finally asked. He shrugged and gave a soft chuff in response.

“I'm not sure, we both know the Templars that kept attacking you were stopped; mostly because you were no longer alone.” Bronwynn nodded in agreement. “I am grateful he doesn't expect me to defend myself or our relationship,” Cullen went on, he felt her sagging again.

“Why didn't you drink lyrium, my love, before you went to heal the woman?” Cullen asked before she was completely asleep.

“I refuse to use a drug that has major long term detriments to get a short term energy boost,” she said as she yawned, curling closer to his side. “I can get my energy from the area around me,” her words drifted off as she finally fell into a truly peaceful sleep. Cullen almost laughed aloud at her statement. Only his mage would equate lyrium with a drug.

 

************************************************************************************

Midnight came and Cullen woke Dean to relieve Shana, who stumbled into the large cavern shortly after. He managed to catch her before she fell. Her skin was feverish again, and he softly called Bronwynn's name. She woke quickly and saw him lowering the Templar to the ground.

“Get her armor off, Cullen,” she said as she began pulling the woman’s boots off. He made quick work of the buckles and got it off of her by helping her sit up. He and Bronwynn pulled off her greaves leaving her in her tunic, breeches and hose. Even through her clothes they could feel the heat of her fever. He heard Bronwynn curse.

“Let's get her next to the fire, after we get at least two more pallets under her.” She said quickly. He nodded and grabbed his and Dean's pallets, he would not allow Bronwynn to sleep on the cold ground. They moved the now thrashing knight over to the fire, fighting to keep her on the pallet the whole way.

“I want water, fresh water, cold water. Find me enough to fill that tub!” She ordered and waved her hand behind her. A stone tub formed up from the floor of the cave. Cullen blinked in astonishment and then shook it off. He grabbed his sword and shield and then stopped. Before he could say a word two double yokes with buckets appeared, he shook his head and simply grabbed them both.

“With me Dean,” he said and the confused Templar followed his Lieutenant out of the cave. Cullen headed toward the lake that was nearby, handing the other man one of the double yokes.

“Shana is burning up with fever again. Bronwynn wants enough water to fill a tub,” he didn't tell the man that she had basically created a tub from the cave floor. The two of them waded into the river that flowed from the lake, filling their buckets up and made their way back to the cave. Bronwynn was forcing the fevered woman to drink from a small water skin. She wouldn't let her choke, but wouldn't let her not swallow either.

“Come on Shana, stop fighting me, drink the elf root potion,” she was saying in a sing-song voice. The men dumped the water into the tub, Cullen saw that it was quite shallow and it only took those four buckets. He and Dean turned to the two women, Bronwynn had gotten as much of the potion into the fevered Templar as she could. “Get her into the tub, please.” She asked them, although it sounded like an order. Neither man cared and simply did as she asked, placing the poor woman into the cold water. They expected her to shriek from the shock, instead she seemed to relax as it seeped into her clothing.

“You'll need to refill the buckets at some point, her fever is quite high,” Bronwynn said. She was busy mixing more healing potion.

“Is it the blight?” Dean asked, worry in his voice. Bronwynn looked up, worry clear in her visage.

“I don't know, Ser Knight,” she admitted. “I have never seen anyone or anything that was corrupted by the blight.”

Her emphasis on the word seen seemed strange to the two men, but they both trusted the mage.

“So even though you were teasing earlier, it really would help you to see those benighted Darkspawn?” Cullen asked wearily. Her nod made him groan. He wanted neither of them anywhere near those creatures. Especially if it was possible to get the disease without injury.

“I'm sorry, vhenan, but I have to see what it is. I don't want to lose her if I don't have to,” Once again he and Dean marveled at the mage's compassion.

“If she's not better by dawn,” he sighed in resignation; “I'll take you,” she nodded solemnly. With that she turned back to the patient. She didn't see any signs of the disease that had attacked Shana earlier, but she didn’t know what was causing the fever either. She cursed her lack of knowledge. She truly didn't know when she would have been able to add healing arts to her list of studies. She looked at Cullen out of the corner of her eye. He was resting against the wall of the cave, keeping an eye on her as always. She wanted to free him of the lyrium. To do that she needed to find something that would keep him from dying did he stop taking it. Something that would lessen the pain, if not stop it all together. She also needed to find something that would allow him to utilize the gifts that lyrium powered within the Templars. More research was needed there.

She had two projects that she was starting in Denerim, two that she just finished that needed writing up. She was teaching the youngest students; her days were filled with things to do and her nights were occupied by the blond Templar. When would she have had time to start learning what she needed to be a better healer.

Bronwynn had lay her head down on the side of the tub, her shoulders had begun shaking as she started to cry. She began reciting the Chant of Light as a prayer, begging the Maker or Andraste to help her.

After a time she felt a warm hand touch her shoulder, heard a softly whispered hush. Looking up she saw no one, at first. Then she looked to the side she was being touched on. There beside her was what she could only assume was a spirit. She felt the warmth, the compassion radiating from it. Her gaze flitted around the cave and saw that she was in an empty room.

“I'm in the fade, I'm dreaming?” she asked the spirit. It nodded and smiled.

“Are you compassion?” she asked, it shook it's head.

“I have knowledge,” it replied. Bronwynn returned the spirit's smile. She knew this spirit was kind, that if it wanted anything from her it would simply be an even exchange of knowledge or experience.

“I would like help, if you are willing to help,” Bronwynn admitted. She then felt another spirit behind her and when she turned to see it was different from the first, but just as kind.

“We will both help, if you would like,” it said. Bronwynn could see that her heartache at being unable to help the Templar made this spirit uncomfortable.

“Please, I would greatly appreciate any help you're willing to offer,” she tried hard to keep from sounding weak, but she was out of her element.

“We will help, relax your guard,” the first spirit said. When the spirit touched her mind Bronwynn knew it was a spirit of knowledge and the spirit was excited to be passing on it's information. It did ask something of her, but it was something she was willing to give. Her mind was gently filled with the knowledge she was seeking, how to help the Templar with her current fever, what was causing it, and even how to prevent it from happening in the future. Bronwynn felt her despair lifting as she began to process the information. She could help, she could do something other than guess.

“Thank you!” she exclaimed earnestly. The spirit seemed to glow a little brighter. “You may go through my journals whenever you would like,” she told the spirit. It nodded in response and then seemed to flow into her. She was startled for a moment, but only for a moment. It was as if the spirit had decided to simply be available to her.

The second spirit hovered close to her for a brief second.

“I would like to follow you, if I may?” it asked her.

“Why?” she asked, truly curious.

“You are not like the others, you are not empty,” it said. Bronwynn could see/feel that it meant she did not have the blocks that the Templars had. “They are broken.” it said. Bronwynn agreed, slightly.

“I don't think broken is right, I think the lyrium they use has changed them,” she temporized. The spirit seemed to think about that.

“That might be right, might be closer. I think I can help, but I want to follow you before I try,” the spirit said. Bronwynn opened her arms, letting her agreement fill the space between them in the fade. These spirits were not looking to become more than they were, they wanted to help. Bronwynn knew the Templars wouldn't understand the difference. Not even her Templar would understand. She wouldn't tell them, and they understood the danger to themselves.

“Bronwynn!” She blinked open her eyes when Cullen called her name, apparently it wasn't the first time he'd done it.

“What?” She asked groggily.

“You fell asleep, she's gone” he nodded towards the tub. Bronwynn stretched and looked at the woman with her mage sight.

“Bron, what are you doing?” he asked. She looked up at him.

“I think I know why she has the fever, I can get it down and keep it down. I believe I can keep it from coming back!” The excitement in her voice concerned her Templar.

“Cullen, what's wrong?” She asked him.

“You didn't even look at her,” he said, pointing to the woman in the tub. She had blood pouring out of her nose.

“I know, Cullen, the cold of the water will stop the bleeding. I have enough elf root to give her a little more strength. I can use some of my equipment to transfuse blood from one of you to her,” Bronwynn took a deep breath and felt some of the edginess she was feeling fade.

“Bron, she gone.” He was trying to make it easier for her to let go. She had done all she could.

“No, she isn't. I can save her,” Cullen was shaking his head. Bronwynn frowned.

“Why don't you want me to try?”

“Bron, she's dead,” he said, once more pointing. “She died after we put her in the tub.” Her head was shaking in denial.

“But,” he didn't stop her when she walked back over to the tub. “Why was she thrashing?” Cullen shook his head. She looked at the woman again. She could see what she assumed was the woman's spirit or soul or essence floating away. “She hadn't left yet, I could have,” Tears began to well in her eyes again. Cullen turned her and wrapped her in his arms, holding her close.

“You did all you could, my love,” he whispered to her. She could also hear the spirit of compassion saying the same, if in different wording. Cullen led her back to her pallet and held her while she cried.

“I am so proud of you,” he told her when the tears had subsided. She looked up at him, startled.

“Why? I failed!” she exclaimed

“You did not fail, Bronwynn. You did everything you could. You tried to save this Templar. Most mages would have let her die from the beginning; especially after the way she was treating you,” he pulled her to him and kissed her temple.

“My love, you made me proud because you showed a woman compassion that hadn't even shown you tolerance,” her body relaxed against his, despite the armor they were wearing.

“Thank you,” she whispered, exhaustion catching up to her once more. He lay her down and covered her with his blanket.

“Sleep, Bron, we'll take care of her.” He told her, he received no answer because she was already asleep.

When Anders and two other Templars arrived the next day the two mages spent several hours discussing the Darkspawn creatures and the disease they carried. Anders admitted to being at a loss as how to cure what they saw. He was able to assure Cullen that Bronwynn had simply exhausted her own stamina. She insisted on continuing on to Denerim to do her research. Cullen pretended he didn’t hear the other Templars snickering when he gave in.


	7. Chapter 7

Cullen followed Bronwynn and two other mages through the library and into one of the smaller ritual rooms. It was a fairly normal ritual and only required three Templars to watch. Indeed, Cullen let his mind wander while the ritual was performed. Neither of the two mages would try anything while Bronwynn was leading the ritual, she had established herself as an authority figure; finally. She was the youngest of the Senior Enchanters, but after she had presented her research late last year she had gotten the promotion. She had a voice that had to be heard, now.

The ritual ended after an hour and Bronwynn praised the two mages for their work and waited while they and the two other Templars left the room. Cullen heard the door to the room shut. He looked around and saw Bronwynn staring at him. He allowed his gaze to caress her from head to toe and back; she was the most beautiful woman he knew. He had already loved her for three years, he would love her for a thousand more.

“Bronwynn, is there a chance I can convince you your day is done?” he asked her with his sexy crooked grin.

“Actually, I do have plans, something I had hoped you would assist me with,” she said. She was blushing when she said it, and sounded almost shy and he laughed at her. She only got this passive when she was trying to manipulate him.

“And what exactly were those plans, love?” he asked her. She smiled because she knew he was on to her manipulation tactic.

“A picnic,” she said with a hint of excitement in her voice.

“Just you and me?” he asked skeptically. Her nod made him laugh which made her rise up and kiss him. “Where are we going on this picnic, my love?”

“Now that I will keep a surprise,” she grinned. “I may not be able to guilt you into following me blindly anymore, vhenan; but I don't have to tell you everything!” She kissed him again. “We aren't leaving the island, though,” she whispered.

“Well it wouldn't be a picnic if we were,” he said on a laugh. She smiled at him, glad to hear him laughing.

“Meet me at the ground floor west storage entrance,” she said in a dramatic conspiratorial whisper.

“Yes, messer,” he whispered back just as dramatically.

Had there been any witnesses that afternoon they wouldn't have been shocked to see the two people picnicking in the little cove protected by rocks and trees. Her red hair gleamed brightly in the sun, a colorful contrast to the gleaming gold of his head. He was a large man, and even though she wasn't short he did tower over her by a good foot and a half. She wasn't elf thin but she was slender and he was broad enough to engulf her when he took her in his arms. They had made themselves comfortable on the deep blue blanket they were using as a cushion to protect them from the grass; both had removed their boots and even their leather armor.

They were clearly enjoying the time together, her laughter trilled like a bell through the cove, underscored by the baritone of his. He touched her often, as if he were unable to help himself. She took his hand in hers and kissed each of his fingers. Had the witnesses been closer they would have seen his glacier blue eyes darken to deep water blue. They would have marveled at his demeanor change from gentle courtship to ravenous lover. He pulled her across the blanket they were on to pin her beneath him. Her startled squeak at the suddenness of this move might have worried any onlookers; had there been any.

His voice was deep and rough when he said her name just before claiming her lips in a searing kiss. She tried to tangle her fingers in his hair when he caught both of her hands in his and raised her arms above her head, pinning her hands there.

“Don’t move your hands,” he rasped out before capturing her mouth again. He ran his large calloused hands down her arms and sides before tugging on the laces that held her top together. When her arms began to move he used one hand to capture her wrists and hold her arms above her head. His other hand tugged at the ties impatiently before he growled deeply and ripped the leather out of the cloth with his impatience.

A voyeur would have been alarmed when they heard her muffled shout of surprise. When she began to squirm under him, tugging her hands in a vain attempt to free them they would have, perhaps, felt the need to intervene. Bronwynn knew only that he had never been this rough before.

“Keep your wrists right here, woman,” he ordered again, his words more sound than actual words.

“But Cullen,” she tried to say only to gasp in shock again as he pulled his dagger and slid it under her top.

“Hold still,” he said unnecessarily. She didn’t even breathe while he sliced the cloth in two. He planted the dagger into the blanket by the basket and tugged the cloth so it fell open to expose her brassiere. She shook her head and tried to speak again when he leaned forward to trace his tongue along the swell of her breasts above the supporting material. Her groan of pleasure matched his.

“I love the way your skin tastes,” he managed to say around his arousal. He wanted to find a way to imprint himself on her. He wanted to make sure every man or woman out there who would try and take her from him would know who she belonged to.

Cullen was determined to sear the memory of him onto her memory; he wanted her to know that she would always be his. It would be his hands and his mouth that brought her pleasure. He wanted her body to remember the feel of him inside her; to the point that no one else would be able to please her.

Once again he took his dagger to her clothing; this time cutting the cloth that held the brassiere in place. She swallowed when it fell apart and the dagger was away from her skin and took a deep breath. Once more she started to speak when his mouth closed over her left breast. She released her breath in a whimper as his tongue flayed the nipple mercilessly while his left hand trailed down her side to slip under the waist of her breeches and his right hand began to alternately knead her right breast and roll her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Her whimpers became soft cries of both pleasure and denial when he gently scraped her left nipple with his teeth before switching to her right breast with his mouth.

When he felt her arms beginning to slide down from where he wanted them he growled so deeply her whole body stilled for a moment before she forced her arms back up so they were fully stretched above her head. She held her breath when his right hand joined his left before he sat up on his heels.

“Look at me,” the low rumble of his voice echoed through her and when she raised her passion heated green eyes to the now stormy ocean blue of his own, her breathing became erratic. With her eyes on his he lowered his gaze to her now bare chest. He placed his hands on her sides. The skin of her abdomen was pale since she was usually covered from neck to toe. His hands were darker only because he often went without gloves when they were outside. His thumbs met just under her navel, her breathing was erratic enough for him to feel her abdomen undulating beneath his hands. He waited until her breathing had evened out before he ran his hands up her torso to once again cup her breasts in his hands.

He caressed, kneaded, and fondled the flesh until she was once more simpering in pleasure. He watched her lips begin to move as if she was speaking, but no sound emerged. He dragged his hands back down her torso to her waist, lightly tracing the edge of her breeches. His hands trembled with his need as he fought to keep his control. He pulled apart the laces on the sides of her breeches, then peeled them off her legs; tugging up to lift her hips. He could see as well as smell his mage's arousal. When her legs were bare he caressed her from her ankles to her hips.

“Oh, my enchanter,” he whispered hoarsely. He took one of her arms and pulled the remains of her shirt off of her, then did the same with the other, reiterating she had to keep her hands where they were. When she was completely bare to his sight he curled his large hands into fists again. When he hadn't touched her for a few minutes she opened hazy green eyes and lifted them to look at his face what she saw stole her breath yet again.

“Cullen?” she asked in a hoarse whisper, he was clearly at war with himself; but when she said his name he covered her naked body with his clothed one once again. His mouth was hot, hard, and insistent on hers. She responded in kind, unable to resist the lure of his passion. He traced kisses along her jaw and down her neck, tongue darting out to taste her skin at random intervals. He was holding her sides and when his mouth came even with her breasts he lifted her rib-cage to lave each breast until she was panting and begging.

Cullen crawled down her body until he reached her abdomen, he could feel the heat of her arousal against his chest, but since he was still clothed he wasn't satisfied with that. He breathed in deeply, nearly driving himself mad with the scent of her; before sitting back on his haunches to remove his shirt. When he heard her sigh of appreciation he grinned the grin of a highly proud man; but it didn't distract him from his goal. He ran his hands along her thighs from hip to knee and back up again, brushing the folds of her vagina lightly. Her hips lifted and her legs spread wider without his prompting.

He took his time petting her, slipping his middle finger between the lips of her pussy to press her clit. Her whole body froze, her eyes closed and a soft keening sound escaped her throat seconds before her hips jerked down then up. She shouted his name and he watched her grasp her hands together to keep them where he wanted them. She couldn't close her legs against the onslaught of pleasure since he was between them, and witnessing her orgasm broke his control. He tore open the laces on his breeches freeing his penis from the confining cloth, he pulled the fabric far enough down his penis was completely free of the cloth and plunged deeply into her exposed vagina.

He roared in satisfaction, just being inside her felt good. Knowing she felt the same satisfaction simply doubled his own. He felt her coming undone again as he started to move inside her and he grit his teeth to keep from spending himself so early. He captured her mouth when she began an ululating scream. Her legs closed around his hips and she began pulling herself up to meet his downward thrusts. He stretched his arms above their heads to grasp her hands in his, her small nails dug into his hands as he pulled them closer to her head. He buried his head into the crook of her shoulder and neck, his breathing harsh against her ear. Her legs tightened, she took in a deep breath and whispered 'I love you' in his ear as she began milking his penis with the walls of her pussy. His shout echoed across the cove as he pumped his seed into her. Cullen kissed her deeply and passionately before they both relaxed into slumber, his weight not seeming to bother the slender mage as they slept.

Cullen rolled onto his back after a short while, pulling her closer to his side. She murmured something incoherent and cuddled closer. He could feel a slight shiver as she did so; he frowned when he realized they didn't have anything to cover up with. Then he realized he'd basically cut her clothes off her and she didn't have anything to wear under her armor. He groaned at his actions. Then he started chuckling, which woke her up grumbling about fools and that made him start laughing. She sat up and crossed her legs in front of her while she waited for his amusement to wind down.

“So, what is so amusing?” she asked him with mock severity. He gave her his crooked grin and she grinned back at him.

“I knew I was going to make love to you out here,” he said, she frowned in confusion.

“I knew that too,” she replied. “It was actually part of the whole plan,” she said with a self-satisfied smirk. He laughed again. “But what is so amusing?” she asked him again.

“I cut off your clothes,” he said, partially embarrassed but mostly amused. Her eyes widened when she realized she'd actually forgotten that. Then she narrowed her green eyes at him in contemplation. Before he could get worried, though she leaned forward and kissed him lightly.

“I actually don't mind,” she said against his lips. “It was exciting,” she leaned into him when his arms snaked around her bare back and pulled her against him so she was lying across his chest. Her breasts were flattened against his chest and he ran one hand down her back to cup her bare bottom. “Of course, I will retaliate,” she murmured against his lips. He grinned when he thought about that promise.

“I can't wait,” he said before laughing again. She gave him a mock frown as she raised herself to her knees before straddling his hips. She settled her core on his quickly stiffening member and placed her hands on his abdomen.

“You think I won't?” she asked. He reached up and shifted her forward just enough to slide his dick into her still moist passage. He watched her eyes flutter as he filled her; he himself sucked in a breath from the shock of the pleasure.

“By Andraste!”he exclaimed. “I don't think I will ever become accustomed to how you feel.” He grasped her hips and began to move her on him, lifting his hips to thrust up as he brought her down and back. He felt her fingers dig into his sides as she shifted her body to fit his movement.

“I hope you never do,” she panted. When he removed his hands from her hips she kept the pace he had set, even when his hands began tracing lines and circles on her sides and up to her breasts.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” he asked her as he gently caressed the teardrop shaped flesh. He trailed his thumbs over the strawberry tinted areolas, his mouth drying as her raspberry nipples hardened even more. Soft cries drifted from her throat when he brushed them with the pads of his thumbs.

“What do you want, my love?” he asked her with a groan as she flexed her inner muscles, gripping his dick in a velvet vice even as he withdrew from her heat.

“I want you to put your mouth on my breasts,” she moaned. He raised himself onto his elbows, bringing his mouth even with her breasts and obliged her desire. When he sat up it changed the angle of his entry, making each downward thrust of hers deeper and letting the head of his penis brush the sensitive bundle of nerves just inside her passage. His lips closed on the nipple of her right breast just as she came down again. He sucked hard on the nub, pulling her breast into his mouth when she rolled her hips on him.

“MAKER!” she shouted as she came apart, he felt her drench his testicles with her juices and the warm fluid flowing down his dick combined with her undulations and moaning had him ejaculating inside her depths once more. He echoed her shout as he pulled her harder down on his member. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly as he fell back onto the blanket. They lay that way in silence for a few minutes before she started shivering from the cool breeze off the water.

“I have to ask, Cullen,” she said as he rolled her to his side, onto her back while he leaned over her on his side to block the breeze.

“What do you have to ask, my love?” he asked, looking into her green eyes.

“Do the orgasms always get better every time you make love to someone?” She blushed slightly as she asked the question. His eyes widened at first, then his lips spread in a smile full of ego.

“So you're saying this one was better than the one before it?” he crowed, she closed her eyes and blushed even deeper.

“That is not relevant to the question, vhenan,” she said, trying to control her embarrassment. He laughed at her as she tried to bury her hot face in his chest.

“Well, I have to agree that this one was better than the one before it,” he whispered into her exposed ear. He felt her lips stretch into her own version of his smile. “To answer your question, however, I have to go by my experience,” he managed to sound very scholarly and authoritative. She looked back up at him, narrowing her eyes at him. She was experiencing a very nasty prick in her chest at the thought of his experience before her.

“And what does your experience with other women say?” she asked, acid filled the question. Cullen chuckled and kissed her pert nose.

“That I hadn't made love to any woman before you, my love, so I think it only get's better with you,” she got a chagrined look on her face before he dropped another kiss on her nose.

“I should probably go in search of clothing for you,” he sighed, realizing he was getting chilly.

“Why?”

“I did ruin your clothes,” she laughed at his dry statement.

“Mmm, yes but I can fix it,” she said.

“You could also make a wind break so I can take advantage of your naked body again,” he retorted as he began licking her neck. Then his stomach growled. Her delighted laughter washed over him and he sealed her mouth with his in a soft, slow kiss that even lying down made her knees weak.

“I love you,” she said softly when the kiss ended. “I think we're both hungry and the food in the basket is all gone,” she then sighed. He smiled down at his mage and nodded his agreement. She pulled her abused clothing to her and cast a mending spell on them, allowing her to wear them again.

That non-existent observer would have smiled at their antics as they dressed; both behaving like mischievous children and passionate lovers alternately. That they were in love was very clear, that they were young was also clear.

 

*****************************************************************************************

 

When the two of them entered the tower again evening was falling fast. The kitchen staff hid their smiles as the couple thanked them for the repast. Greagoir and Irving were waiting in their quarters for them.

“I need to speak with you Templar,” Greagoir said rather ominously. Cullen nodded and they left the room, Bronwynn could see Irving also had something serious to discuss and it worried her.

“Should I be sitting down?” Bronwynn asked, half jokingly. Irving sighed but shook his head.

“Not unless you want to, Bronwynn,” he sounded very sad.

“What’s wrong Irving?” she asked, taking his wrinkled hand in her smooth one.

“The king has said that we are to send mages to Ostagar to fight a blight,” he responded.

“Wait, I thought you said a blight,” Bronwynn repeated, blinking at him in confusion.

“I did,” he answered. “Grey Warden Duncan has sent word there is a blight forming. Apparently he wants to try and cut it off before it fully forms.” he followed the younger woman to her sofa and sat. He was looking even older than he was. He was truly worrying over this issue.

“So you have to decide who is going?” she tried to lead him to his point. His regretful nod made her frown. “Well, what issue are you having with it?” she asked.

“It’s you,” he replied. She shook her head in confusion. “You are going to have to go to the front, Bronwynn,” her eyes widened in surprise. It didn’t take her long to realize the problem.

“How many other mages are you sending?” she asked.

“All the Senior Enchanters and Enchanters. About one hundred,” he said. She nodded.

“How many of our Templars are going to ‘guard’ us?” she asked. Irving chuckled when he heard the quotations.

“Only twenty,” she frowned.

“That would only be enough for a small ritual, we would be unable to perform any larger rituals,” Bronwynn said, a statement of fact. He nodded in agreement.

“The Chantry is sending Templars from the towns closest to us with Chantries. Bronwynn snorted laughter, Irving smiled his own amusement.

“The Templars won’t fight Darkspawn when there are mages around who may become abominations!” she exclaimed softly. Irving chuckled at her jest, although they both knew she was only half joking. She sighed and looked over at the closed door.

“He’s not going to like this,” she said softly. Irving watched her face for a long moment before speaking again.

“Greagoir is going to try and convince him to stay here, in the Circle,” Bronwynn gave the older man a wry smile. “I believe Greagoir hopes that this will end your relationship,” the First Enchanter confided.

“Because distance will reduce the way we feel?” Bronwynn asked with sarcasm. Irving smiled ruefully.

“Actually, my dear, he believes that since you have had no chance to experience the world without your Templar you will discover there are other men out there who would suit you better,” Bronwynn shook her head in amusement.

“Has he forgotten my history here in the Tower?” Bronwynn asked. Irving shrugged, but he wasn’t laughing.

“Child, you laugh, but he has broken Chantry law by allowing this relationship to continue,” Bronwynn tilted her head to the side as she looked at her mentor.

“I know, we both know that is true. Yet he has no right to punish either of us. The Maker knows if either of us could have avoided these feelings we would have,” she shrugged as she looked at the older man. “Honestly, did he truly expect that he could put two healthy, heterosexual people in the same space; practically in each others pockets, twenty-four hours a day and we would not eventually have sex?”

“Neither of us thought you would actually let the man near you,” Irving admitted. “Even Marline thought that you wouldn’t actually ever trust a Templar,” he shrugged his own shoulders.

“So what was the point of having a Templar be my personal bodyguard then?” Bronwynn asked.

“You were going to be made Archmage, allowed to travel between

Circles to teach,” Irving told her. “You were not going to be able to travel alone all the time, because you would need protection from bandits and anyone else who may try and take advantage of a young girl alone. He had to be able to trust your judgment and you needed to trust him. Also, having a Templar with you would guarantee the other Circles wouldn’t try and hold you,” Bronwynn’s eyes had gotten very round in surprise. “A blight changes things, however. Will he cause trouble? We will need him here,” Irving said.

“He’ll do his duty; he just won’t like that I’m being sent to the front line to fight Darkspawn.” She paused a moment. “Especially after last summer,” she murmured almost to herself.

“The other problem is your research into the blight,” Irving continued. She turned her face back to his and frowned in confusion.

“Why is that a problem?”

“Apparently the Grey Wardens are wanting you to work with them as well as work with the mages,” he shrugged as if to say he wasn’t sure what the Wardens could want. She didn’t ask him if he’d even read her research report because if he had he’d understand why. She had found several combinations of herbs that could; with magical healing, potentially cure the blight. Sadly, she couldn’t be sure if it would work or what the side effects may be. The Wardens would be interested in that for the possibility of keeping fighters on the field, if nothing else.

“I think I can see why that would be considered a good thing, but how a problem?” she asked for clarification.

“The Wardens would have you join their ranks,” he said. Her eyes widened in full understanding. Greagoir wouldn’t want to give up any of the mages to the Grey Wardens. It wasn’t his decision, but he behaved as if his was the only opinion that mattered. Bronwynn shook her head in amusement.

“Truth is, the Knight-Commander has nothing to worry about, Irving. It’s a blood-magic ritual that I would never take part in,” she informed the older man. His eyes widened in shock.

“How do you know that?” Bronwynn shrugged and pointed to her book shelves.

“Someone wrote about it. I was able to get a copy of the book. I don’t have a lot of time on my hands now, but that wasn’t always so,” The young woman stood and began to pace. “When do I leave?” she asked and he released a relieved breath.

“In two weeks. That should give you time to prepare,” he answered. She nodded just as the door opened and Cullen stepped in. His face was red and his features were held in a rigidly blank mask. Irving rose and made his way to the door, saying nothing. He would have to trust the younger Enchanter knew her lover well enough.

Bronwynn watched with worried eyes the way the Templar moved so very stiffly as he locked the door. They both felt the warding snap into place when the bolt slid home. Part of her wanted to whoop for joy and hear the man tell her how proud of her he was, while another part of her was cringing at the thought of the argument to come.

“I need time to calm down,” Cullen said to her. “Would you mind terribly going to the dining hall and retrieving dinner for us?” Bronwynn swallowed, it was going to be worse than she thought. She simply nodded and did as he asked. When the lock engaged behind her she almost jumped out of her skin. She made her way to the kitchens to ask the staff to help her with dinner for them. Wynn came into the kitchens after her, ostensibly to discuss preparations for the move to the front line. Bronwynn was the newest and youngest of the Senior Enchanters, only Leorah was as new as she was. Wynn began the discussion of what preparations they should concentrate on first only to find a way to bend it to Bronwynn and Cullens’ relationship. Bronwynn sighed and sagged against a nearby wall.

“Did Irving send you?” Bronwynn asked. Wynn smiled in sympathy.

“No, child, I just thought you might need a shoulder to lean on or an ear to confide in,” the older woman said. Bronwynn smiled at the older woman. Wynn honestly meant well; but she was somewhat bitter after her own love affair went sour.

“Have any idea how I should convince the Templar I will be perfectly safe without him?” Wynn seemed surprised that she actually asked. Bronwynn laughed softly when two servants came up to them with trays laden with food. “Cullen worries about my safety, Wynn, as any Templar would. I just have to get past the overprotective Templar attitude for him to understand I also have my duty to the kingdom,” She hugged the older Enchanter and kissed her cheek. “Thanks for worrying about us,” she whispered before turning and heading back to her quarters. Her heart was pounding in her chest so loudly she was sure others could hear it. She could feel her stomach knotting in distress. She didn’t want to argue, she just knew if they argued it would end badly. She unlocked the door and waited a moment before knocking three times. She heard him call out and she and the two elven servants entered. They placed the trays on the long table and quietly left. Even they could see the Templar was angry. Bronwynn tried not to fidget under his glare. She knew he wasn’t angry with her, yet. She hoped her waiting to let him say his piece would keep the argument short.

Cullen could see from her body language she was dreading a conversation about this assignment of hers. He didn’t want to argue anymore than she did, he would much rather make love to her. He sighed and closed his eyes.

“I want to go,” she said into the silence. He heard her voice break and knew she was fighting tears. She didn’t like to cry when they did argue; she said it was unfair to him and while he appreciated her not using her tears to manipulate him it was still difficult to deal with. He felt tears pricking his eyes as well.

“I know;” he said, unsurprised to hear his own voice crack. “Let me guess, you’ll be fine with all the other mages and Templars around,” he went on, sarcasm dripping like venom from his words. She closed her own eyes and drew into herself as if slapped.

“I know you’re not going to like this, but apparently I’ll be spending more time with the Wardens than the mages,” he could hear the apology in her voice yet it did nothing to ease the anger that built even higher

“I’m not even angry with you!” He spat out at her. “It’s the fact that Greagoir made it clear I am not going with you!” His voice had not risen, but she could feel his ire radiating from him.

“My love,” she faltered. She didn’t know what to say. He could see her searching for the words to say what she wanted to say. When she raised her hands, palms up in a helpless gesture he threw his own hands up in frustration.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked her, distress clear in his voice.

“I want you to follow your heart,” she said, being far more honest than she thought she should be. She knew he would do his duty, he would stay with the Circle. He sank into one of the chairs by the table and sighed in defeat.

“I can’t do both,” he said softly. She stepped over and sat on the arm of the chair. Reaching out she ran her fingers through his hair. He did not see her rueful smile.

“I know,” she answered just as softly.

“I do not want to lose you,” he said, pulling her down onto his lap. Bronwynn wrapped her arms around his neck and held him to her.

“You are not losing me,” she said. “I am merely going to do my duty,” she said in reassurance. She missed his rueful smile this time.

“You are coming back,” he said and felt her nod as he held her more tightly.

 

They ate their dinner in silence, they ate more slowly than they normally would have. Neither speaking out of fear of what may be said by the other. Cullen watched his mage as she played with the food on her plate. He wondered what she was thinking, if she was already looking forward to being without him. He dropped his fork in disgust at himself. She loved him, she told him and showed him often and well enough that he should not be doubting her. She jumped at the sound of his fork hitting his plate then shoved herself from the table.

“I’m going to take a bath before bed,” she said softly. He simply nodded. He stewed for a few moments more, there must be a reason Greagoir didn’t want him staying with her. He could not think of any reason the Knight-Commander would now; after three years, actually separate them. Cullen knew Chantry law forbade their relationship and knew that Greagoir was well within his rights to have sent Cullen to a different Circle or even have dismissed him from the order. The Knight-Commander had done neither of these things when he discovered their relationship; instead he had allowed them to continue, giving them tacit permission.

“Why choose now to separate us?” Cullen wondered aloud.

“The Blight,” Bronwynn answered from the bathing room door. He turned his blue eyes to her and couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her. Then her answer registered and he frowned.

“The Blight?” he repeated. “How does that work? You need my protection more!”

“The Wardens want me to become one of them,” she answered. He frowned at her for a moment as he considered what that would mean.

“No,” he said, as if his denial of it could stop her from doing it. She smiled at him before laughing gently. His eyes narrowed menacingly which only made her laugh more. “Woman, it’s no laughing matter, you are not leaving me.” That made her stop laughing, although she still smiled. He stood and strode over to her, sliding his hands under her bathrobe to grip her hips and pull her forward. She lay her hands on his chest and leaned into him.

“I know you think I’m looking for a reason to leave you, vhenan; but I’m not. I won’t go through with the Joining and I won’t allow them to think that I will. I have no desire to throw my life away,” she said to him, trying to reassure him.

“Are you saying you don’t want to leave the Circle Tower?” he asked her incredulously. She laughed and shook her head.

“Yes, I want to leave the Tower, but I don’t count that as leaving you,” she said to her lover. Cullen shook his own head.

“I must stay here, without you, you are leaving me.” he realized how pathetic that sounded; how needy and he groaned.

“I sound like a sulky teenager not getting his way,” he said as he released her and stepped away. “I want you to have the opportunities others have, I want you to be free of this Tower and the things that it’s inhabitants have done to you!” he admitted. “I just don’t want you to outgrow me,” he finished; realizing that was his true issue. Fear she would realize she didn’t need him.

“Cullen, ma vhenan; my heart, I don’t want you to outgrow me either,” she said on a rueful laugh. He frowned.

“What?”

“You think I’m not terrified that you’ll finally look at the other women in this Tower and realize how many of them are prettier than I?” she shook her head in bemusement. “Cullen, there are ten female Templars who would gladly take my place in your bed that I know of,” she told him. He was shaking his head in denial. “That’s just the Templars, I don’t even want to think about the number of mages that have attempted to get you to look their way,” she harrumphed. “You are my Templar, Ser Knight, and you are not the only one who is afraid to lose,” she finished. There were tears in her eyes now and he pulled her back into his arms to kiss them away.

“Do you think me so fickle, my heart?” she asked him quietly. “Do you have so little faith in me?” The questions pierced his anger and frustration, he felt the sting of his accusation. However unintentional, he was saying he didn’t trust her.

“No, my love, I don’t think you fickle,” he sighed. “I don’t think I deserve you; I guess I think you’ll figure out you can do better than a Templar who won’t give up his faith,” Bronwynn slapped her open palm on his chest in reprisal.

“I would be a poor partner if I asked it of you!” she exclaimed. His blue eyes widened in shock at her vehemence.

“The Chantry won’t allow me to marry you,” he said as if this were explanation enough for his concern.

“I don’t need some confused religious prune to give me sanctified permission to love you!” she said in the same tone. “Maker forbid I think and feel for myself!” she said loudly. Cullen began chuckling at her reaction until she began hitting his arm.

“Bronwynn, my love, I’m sorry!” he said while laughing. He caught her hands and held them. “I am, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound like that,” she narrowed her green eyes at him in deep suspicion.

“Then how did you mean it?” she asked him.

“I want every man out there to know you are taken. I want them to keep their distance from you. I want my mark on you, somehow - someway so they will all know you are mine,” he said, and the raw possessiveness of the statement took her breath away.

“I get that,” she said after a moment of absorbing how important to him she was.

“I know that sounds barbaric,” he said. She smiled and leaned into him, shaking her head no.

“It sounds perfect.” she replied before kissing him. He wrapped her in his arms, holding her close. Cullen moved them to the sofa in front of the fire, removing her bathrobe before he sat her down. Once more he gripped her hips firmly as he leaned over her. When she lay her back to keep kissing him he trailed kisses across her jaw to her left ear. She giggled lightly from his breath tickling her skin. From her ear he nibbled down her neck to her shoulder alternately biting lightly and licking her skin. He heard her breathing pick up and felt her hands tugging at the hem of his tunic. He flexed his fingers on her hips, adjusting his grip as he started nipping his way down her collarbone. His movement dislodged her hands and she grunted at him just before he ran his tongue up the hollow of her throat. He felt her hips jerk and he held her still; her sudden whimper fueling his hunger for her. He scraped the top of her sternum lightly with his teeth, dragging her hips forward on the seat to stretch out her torso and give himself easier access. He sat back on his haunches as he kissed, nipped and licked his way down her chest; she tried diverting his head to either of her breasts but he was determined to reach his destination. She was wriggling her whole body in an attempt to escape the driving need he was building in her.

He reached her navel when she began pulling on his hair and murmuring his name; he looked up at his green eyed witch, her eyes were dark with her desire.

“Do you really want me to stop?” he asked her, knowing the answer already. He used his arms to open her legs wider as he reached his knees in front of her. She sighed the word no as he changed his grip on her hips once more. He leaned forward and blew softly on the petals of her vagina before he darted his tongue between them to trace the length of her slit. She opened her legs wider for him and tried to tilt her hips, he wouldn’t let her move her hips. Using just his tongue he traced lines along each labia; darting in to taste the liquids she exuded as she got more excited. When the circle he was making reached her clitoris she was begging him for more. He started flicking the nubbin with the tip of his tongue and had to hold her hips down to keep her from coming off the sofa. Cullen took his time pleasuring her, he drank deeply of her juices and every cry and whimper drove him to give her more.

She had stopped pulling his hair and was trying to pull away from his mouth after half an hour; sobbing and begging him but when he asked her what she wanted she couldn’t say. He rose up on his knees and sealed her mouth with his own, a searing kiss that kept her hands on his shoulders while he unlaced his breeches freeing his penis. He spread her legs as wide as they would go and gripped her hips once more, she started wiggling again when she felt his hands holding her but he wouldn’t let go. He slid his penis into her passage with one smooth heavy stroke and bruised her hips with his fingers when she came undone once he was fully sheathed inside her.

Cullen waited only long enough for her to catch her breath before he started stroking in and out of her, she kept trying to move her hips with him and he held her hips as still as he could. Five minutes after he started he lost control and lifted her from the sofa to the floor and began pounding into her. Their combined shout of release rang throughout the room, echoing for a moment before the silence was broken only by their heavy breathing.

She shoved lightly at his chest after a few more moments, giggling he was crushing her which made him laugh and sit up. He pulled her into his arms to hold her close for a moment more.

“Can we perhaps go to sleep?” she asked on a yawn; his answer was to pick her up and carry her to their bed. He placed her on the bed and stripped while she pulled the covers down for them. She was asleep within minutes of his crawling in next to her. Cullen lay there on his side, watching her sleep. He sighed in defeat, she was going to leave him and he could do nothing about it.

 

Two weeks passed in a blur for Bronwynn and Cullen. She spent most of the time coordinating with the Knight-Commander; who was going to be overseeing the Templars at Ostagar, and Wynn; who was leading the mages going to the battle. He was kept busy by learning a new list of duties given by Knight-Captain Hadley. When the day before she left loomed both found themselves with nothing to do. Hadley and Wynn had found a way to convince the Knight-Commander to go back to the shore to await the mages.

“You’re not going to see him for quite some time, my dear. You should make the most of this,” Wynn told her with a small smile. Bronwynn smiled back and headed back to their quarters. She noticed how empty the room looked with most of her things packed away and began to cry silently. She already missed the Tower, the routine. She already missed her lover. She sat down on one of the cushioned chairs by the fireplace and allowed herself to think about more than preparations. She was leaving him. Not just the tower, not just the Circle; him. Her chest got tight and she felt panicky.

‘How will I manage without him?’ she thought to herself. ‘I don’t know if I know how to move about without him around,’ she started blinking rapidly as her heartbeat increased. ‘I am so used to his presence; he is my world,’ she curled into the chair and cried as she waited for her Templar to come into their quarters. She had cried herself to sleep so didn’t hear him enter, she didn’t know he watched her sleeping for over an hour before he woke her.

Cullen reached out and caressed her cheek, he smiled when her green eyes fluttered open. She returned his crooked smile with a sad one of her own.

“I don’t know if I can actually leave without you tomorrow,” she said to him. He laughed roughly in response to that, maneuvering them both so she was sitting on his lap and held her tightly.

“That, my love, is my very own conundrum,” he said to her. “I don’t know if I can let you leave without me.” She had no response so simply snuggled into her lover's arms. When they went to bed later that night it was to simply hold one another, no words


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

9:30 Dragon: 2 months later

 

Bronwynn stood on the stone bridge that separated the two halves of the ruins at Ostagar staring, unblinkingly at the battlefield. Two sorties with the Darkspawn and the death toll for the army was only increasing. The Templars were not allowing the mages to actually fight on the front lines without serious push back from Teyrn Loghain and King Cailan or even Warden Commander Duncan. The Senior Enchanters were more than frustrated with the Templar’s actions. Bronwynn caught movement in the shadows of the trees, a flash of metal and a splash of red, another Darkspawn taken down by one of the patrols.

Bronwynn sighed and closed her eyes, feeling the weariness of the last two months weighing her down. The young mage had quickly found herself relegated to the healers area where she had begun curing as many blight infected as she could. The other mages that had healing skills were amazed at this, wanting to know how she could have learned such a thing. She stopped asking if any of them had even read her papers on the herbs she had been studying, Bronwynn simply gave the mages the recipe for the tonic that was needed and showed them how to use their magic to combat the disease. The fact that it wouldn’t work on someone who was past the first fever broke her heart.

Today she had lost a Templar to the blight; the fifth Templar in as many days. The man had been the one hundredth she had lost in the last month; and he marked the one hundred and twentieth patient she had lost since she had gotten here.

Bronwynn covered her face and turned towards the tower side of the encampment, quickly making her way to the stand of trees within the ruined columns. When she thought she was hidden from prying eyes she sank down onto her knees and allowed herself to cry. She kept her mouth covered to keep the sound down, she didn’t want others to hear her crying. She was mentally and physically exhausted; she wasn’t sure how much longer she could maintain the pace the others were pushing her through.

The Wardens were no better, when she wasn’t in the healers tents she was being interrogated by the one mage Warden Commander Duncan had managed to bring to Ferelden. Bronwynn had learned more about the Wardens and their taint from his questions than she had from her books; and while this was good it was also draining her. Farres wanted her to show him how she came to what conclusions she had, which often meant using magic and she was down to the dregs of her energy.

Between the healing and the Wardens she was mentally and physically exhausted, on the verge of burnout. On top of these duties, Warden Commander Duncan was pressuring her to join the Wardens; to use her magic to save the world. Her shoulders shook as she cried and she felt a tightness in her chest as her grief built.

Bronwynn jerked when arms wrapped around her, then she heard the voice of Warden Alistair and she relaxed into him. She let herself relax into him as she sobbed. He held her gently and let her cry and if he hadn’t smelled of the battlefield she might have confused him with Cullen.

Alistair rubbed her arms while she cried but made no sound. He had been watching the mage run around as if she were the only one who could put out all the fires the Blight had started. He had listened as she attempted to explain to mages ten and twenty years her senior how to create a potion to ease the suffering of the blight infected; he had marveled at her patience with Ferres and his repeated questions. Personally he would have punched the man in the face after the fourth repetition. This woman simply sighed and found a new way to answer the question.

Alistair had also watched the young red head cast spell after spell, perform ritual after ritual with few breaks in between and he hadn’t once seen her gulping down the bottles of lyrium that the other mages and Templars seemed to guzzle constantly. He wasn’t sure how the woman had managed to not fall over in exhaustion, but he wasn’t surprised she was crying after the week she had been having. As her crying quieted and her shaking stopped he loosened his grip on her. He’d seen how she reacted to people touching her and he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. He wasn’t surprised when she pulled away from him after her tears had stopped. Her green eyes were still wet when she looked up at him and he quietly marveled at how young she had to be.

“Thank you, Warden,” she said. She sounded as if it surprised her that another person would offer her comfort.

“You’re welcome, Enchanter,” he answered with a touch of humorous formality, which caused her to quirk her lips in a smile. He smiled back and then made a show of realizing they had been sitting in the mud.

“Well, it’s a good thing I was going to the showers today,” he pretended to grumble. He ruined the effect by holding out a hand to help her up, she surprised him by readily taking it.

“I should apologize …” she started to say when he interrupted her.

“No, you really shouldn’t” he said. “I happened to see you duck into this cozy copse of trees and thought perhaps you were going to do something fun or illicit and I thought; if she’s going to have fun I should go check to make sure it’s actually a lot of fun,” He shrugged his narrow shoulders and grinned in a self deprecating way. Bronwynn smiled in response to his grin and simply nodded. “I do think you are taking on way too much yourself, though” he added in a rush. “Not that my opinion really matters in the grand scheme of things,” he muttered.

“You’re probably right,” Bronwynn replied. “I feel like I’m doing everything by myself.” she sighed and leaned against a tree. “I miss the Tower,” she admitted. Alistair laughed jovially at the heartfelt statement and laughed harder when the mage narrowed her eyes at him.

“I haven’t heard another mage admit they wanted to go back to their prison,” the young Warden managed to get her to laugh yet again, something she hadn’t been doing a lot of since she left the tower.

“I must admit, Warden, I haven’t thought of the Tower as a prison in a long time,” she told him. He put his head to the side and raised his brows in a question. “I have been allowed to come and go as I please for quite some time, Warden -”

“Alistair,” he interrupted.

“Pardon?” she asked.

“My name, it’s Alistair,” he said.

“I- okay, I’m Bronwynn,” she stammered, she felt herself blushing and she wasn’t sure why.

“Actually, I knew that,” Alistair said as he reached out and took her hand to place it on his elbow to guide her back towards camp. Bronwynn laughed softly and admitted she had known his name as well. “I would order you to get some rest, to let the other mages know they can do it themselves; but I imagine they won’t listen to a mere Enchanter,” he said. Bronwynn laughed, and many heads turned at the tinkling sound. “What?”

he asked her.

“I’m a Senior Enchanter of my Circle,” she said with a smile. His blue eyes widened in surprise.

“So young?” Bronwynn gave yet another laugh at his shock.

“As if you are so very old yourself!” she exclaimed. He laughingly shook his head as they continued to walk. It wasn’t very far to the mages camp, but they had to walk past the Kings area well as the Wardens area; and as they walked there were many smiles and whispers following them. Alistair and Bronwynn let their conversation flow as it would on their walk. She let herself be comforted by his presence, she let him take her mind off her failures. Alistair simply enjoyed her attention since he wasn’t used to women actually giving him their attention.

“Thank you again, Warden Alistair,” she said when they reached the Mage camp area.

“For what?” he asked with genuine curiosity.

“For helping me forget, for a few moments, that I failed so many,” she answered sadly. Alistair shook his head and took her small hands in his large calloused ones.

“You have failed no one, Enchanter Bronwynn,” he denied. He squeezed her fingers when she would have argued. “I was given to the Chantry when I was thirteen, and the Templar’s taught me that one can only fail if one never tries,” he blushed as he said this, thinking he sounded rather pompous; but Bronwynn looked rather thoughtful for a few moments then nodded.

“I guess I can accept that,” she said. “I still feel badly for the families,” she added and he nodded.

“I do as well, we’ve lost so many and we will lose so many more before this is over. All we can hope to do is stop the Blight here,” he sounded so earnest that Bronwynn wanted to agree with him.

“If King Cailan would listen to Teyrn Loghain we might actually be able to do that,” Bronwynn said instead. Alistair chuckled in response.

“If Loghain would acknowledge that the Wardens are needed to end the Blight he might actually listen,” Alistair offered in return. Bronwynn frowned as she thought about that.

“I don’t think anyone actually believes this is a true Blight, Alistair; we haven’t had that many skirmishes with the Darkspawn and we haven’t seen any sign of an Archdemon. What we do see is the King behaving like a child playing at war and arguing with the hero who saved his father and freed Ferelden from Orlais,” she frowned again. “I have heard grumbling from Teryn Loghain’s men that they feel as if they are carrying the fighting,” here she shrugged.

“Of course, with the Templar Knight-Commander not allowing the mages to truly engage the Darkspawn isn’t helping matters. How can one take this seriously?” she asked rhetorically. The young Warden chuckled his agreement.

“As the Chantry is pushing hard to send the mages back to their Circles, I think you’re lucky to be allowed to fight at all,” Alistair quipped, Bronwynn turned her head to look at the Reverend Mother who was currently leading a chant to several Templars and soldiers. It was of course the Canticle of Transfiguration but she always stopped at the second verse. “Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him. Foul and corrupt are they Who have taken his gift and turned it against His children. They shall be named Maleficar, accursed ones. They shall find no rest in this world, or beyond.”

The Revered Mother then went on about how magic was the cause of the Blight, the cause of the Darkspawn; basically the cause of all evil in the world. Bronwynn had always knows she was sheltered in the Tower, and after having become acquainted with so many soldiers and servants here at Ostagar she realized just how naive she and the other mages truly were; but even she knew that magic was not the root of all evil. It wasn’t just mages that did evil things, and most mages didn’t want to rule the world. Yes, she personally knew mages that wanted more power than they already had, but she felt they were simply cowards and weak minded fools. Still and all, Bronwynn could see that many people feared magic far more than they should; blaming demons for things they themselves did or saying there were maleficarum around when there weren’t. Bronwynn had seen one of the soldiers beating an elven servant for no more reason than he could; and when she had stopped him he had tried to convince her the servant had deserved it because she was an elf. It had taken two Templars to keep Bronwynn from killing the soldier.

Yet the Chantry leaders here were constantly going on and on about how the mages were the problem. The mages were going to become abominations, they were using blood-magic, they were trying to escape - which Bronwynn found amusing because there were six or seven soldiers who deserted weekly and not a single mage had left the camp while alive. While Bronwynn was certain that there were mages who would normally be using blood-magic who weren’t doing so openly or with the blood of others since there were over two hundred Templars and half again that in chantry personnel. Still, mages were the root of all evil.

“No wonder the Maker turned from us,” Bronwynn muttered, forgetting for a second that she wasn’t alone. Alistair chuckled at her statement.

“A sentiment I have often shared, but I learned not to say it too loudly around the Templars and Mothers,” she laughed again.

“Be careful, Warden, or I may forget I’m a mage and you’re not,” she said lightly. Her flirting made him blush and stammer in response before he then quickly made an escape. She laughed again in amusement, and turned into the camp to make her way to her tent. She realized she felt better than she had in a while and her smile persisted because of it.

“Bronwynn!” She heard a deeper woman’s voice call her, she turned to see Wynn waving her over. Sighing softly she made her way over to the older woman. As she got closer she could see there were two young men standing near the Senior Enchanter.

“Hi, Wynn, who are your friends?” She asked with cheer, the two of them looked vaguely familiar.

“This is Garrett and Carver Hawke,” Wynne said as she pointed to them in turn. The older man smiled a very engaging grin while the younger man seemed to sneer at her with his eyes. Bronwynn smiled politely at them both and looked at Wynn with expectation. “They are your cousins,” she clarified. Bronwynn’s eyes widened.

“I admit,” Garrett said as he began shaking her hand. “I kind of forced Enchanter Wynn to introduce us.” His grin was engaging and his blue eyes sparkled with merriment; although Bronwynn could see constant worry in them behind the laughter. He and his younger brother seemed to carry a heavy weight on their shoulders. When Bronwynn turned to young Carver she caught him eyeing the Templars with both longing and distrust. The men were clearly comfortable around mages and were both just as comfortable with their arms and armor.

“Were you conscripted for the army, then?” she asked Carver, who seemed surprised she spoke to him directly. He glanced at Garrett then shook his head.

“No, we volunteered.” he said. His voice was a lighter echo of his brothers, obviously younger. She could see he was broader of frame than his older brother as well as heavier of build. Bronwynn could sense latent magic in both brothers, meaning they were probably related to a mage. From their behavior she presumed an apostate, a mage that wasn’t part of a circle. Bronwynn nodded at the younger man to encourage him to continue. He cleared his throat nervously but continued. “We wanted to help end the Blight,” he he finished.

“A noble goal, indeed,” Bronwynn said. “One many share,” she nodded towards the soldiers out in the fields. When he turned to look out over the field she could see the claymore strapped to his back and nodded to herself. He may have been shorter than his brother, but that had more to do with youth than anything else. The older man being more wiry was probably a bit of a rogue and rouè; his dimpled grin an obvious come on. For some reason, though, Bronwynn felt that Carver would be the more interesting one to know.

“Would you like to have dinner with us?” Carver blurted, seemingly surprised by his own hubris. Bronwynn stood up a little straighter and smiled at him with pleasure, nodding at him.

“I’d love that, Carver,” she responded. His shy smile was reward enough for her effort. She could tell that Garrett was happy she was speaking to Carver more than him, and she was sure she would soon figure out why.

She walked with them to their fire, speaking of mundane things while they moved through the camp. The two were close enough to the main camp to be a part of the army but far enough apart to still be separate. Obviously used to being apart.

“So, who is the apostate in the family?” Bronwynn asked softly when they had settled before the fire and Carver had handed out bowls of rich rabbit stew. She had startled both men badly, although Carver didn’t drop more than his spoon. When he laughed at the site of his spoon sticking up out of the dirt Bronwynn laughed with him. “I’m sorry,” she said as she chuckled with him. He sighed and picked it up and took it to the nearby stream to clean it off. He looked at her with curiosity when he sat back down.

“How did you know?” he asked. She shrugged before answering.

“You were watching the Templar’s very carefully, making sure they didn’t come too close; you were also standing rather protectively over Wynn and myself,” she shrugged again. “You weren’t actually wary of either of us, or any of the mages for that matter. Meaning you are used to mages and comfortable with magic. You aren’t Templars, so that means an apostate,” she smiled. Carver didn’t exactly smile back.

“We could all be put to death,” he said with barely concealed anger and bitterness.

“An unfair happenstance, especially considering that most apostates are less likely to be maleficar than Circle mages,” Bronwynn said dryly. Carver’s blue eyes widened in surprise. Garrett’s expression mirrored his younger brother’s. “What? A Senior Enchanter of a Circle is supposed to tout how wonderful the Circle is?” she asked with her own share of bitterness.

“But the Templar’s don’t bother you when you’re in the Circle,” Carver said as if that was the most important thing. Bronwynn shook her head.

“Carver, Templars are going to look for maleficarum in mages no matter where they are,” Bronwynn said dryly. Garrett chuckled in response to that. Carver gave his older brother an evil glare.

“You don’t have to worry about them carting you off in the middle of the night just for existing,” he said. Bronwynn laughed even more bitterly.

“I am surrounded by Templar’s all day every day of my life, I cannot escape them. If one of them decides I have committed some crime I have no recourse; at least an apostate has a chance to escape,” Bronwynn said softly. “It’s not ideal, and it’s not fair for either the apostate or the Circle mage.” Carver frowned.

“Why is that?”

“I had to go through a terrifying and useless experience to prove I was able to resist temptation; your relative didn’t. You and your relative have to live in fear that the Templars and the Chantry will discover your ‘evil’ secret and you’ll all be punished for it. How is it fair that any of us suffer because the Maker gave some of us magic?” she shook her head in a bewilderment that seemed to Carver to match his own. “So who is the apostate?” she asked again, looking at Carver.

“My twin sister,” he said after a moment of thinking; looking at her thoughtfully. Bronwynn’s eyes widened.

“You have a twin?” she asked excitedly. Carver seemed amused by her excitement.

“I also have an older brother,” he said, pointing at Garrett. She looked at the older man and shrugged with amusement.

“Well, sure, but he’s not as interesting as a twin!” she said. Carver laughed.

“I’m not sure Bethany would think I’m as interesting as Garrett,” Carver said with what Bronwynn would learn was his typical self depreciation and bitterness. Bronwynn simply chuckled.

“At least you have siblings,” she said. “My parents stopped after I was taken by the Templars.” The two men nodded solemnly. “Of course, I wouldn’t know them even if I did have them,” she said into the silence that had followed. “So be grateful, oh serious one, that you have a brother and a sister,” she said with a mock severity that made the younger man smile in spite of himself. She reached out and brushed a lock of black hair that had fallen across his forehead. “So how long have you been using that great sword on your back?” she asked to change the subject, and it was a good subject for young Carver. They talked until it was time for him to go on patrol. Garrett walked her back to the mage camp.

“Thank you,” he said to his young cousin.

“For what?”

“Making him feel important,” he replied, with far more seriousness than she thought the short conversation deserved. “He feels, often, that I overshadow him,” Garrett said softly. “He’s right; although I don’t go out of my way to do so,” he then admitted. Bronwynn stopped beneath a towering old oak laden with moss, when Garrett stopped to look down at her he saw her brows slashed together in a frown.

“And then his twin sister is a mage. Let me guess, one of your parents is also a mage?” she asked quietly. He nodded.

“Our father,” he said just as quietly.

“So father pays a little more attention to sister than to him, a little more attention to you than to him and I am guessing mother may have been a little more coddling towards him to make up for it?” she asked, although not unkindly. Garrett laughed with real humor.

“Mother coddled all of us, although perhaps Carver got a little more of her attention than Bethany and I,” his smile was indulgent and clearly the smile of a man who never felt neglected. For a brief moment envy filled Bronwynn’s heart. She shook the feeling away, however as she did have Cullen.

“I think I will like him,” she said with honesty, and his eyes widened in surprise.

“No one likes my brother!” he said to match the look. Bronwynn shook her head laughing.

“Because no one understands the anger,” she responded. “I do,” she sighed. “It is not easy to love someone and be afraid for them and be afraid of the consequences of protecting them too;” she gave the dark haired thief a cunning look and he gave her a toothy smile. “It’s also not easy to want to be the one in charge of that protection and feel as if you’re held inadequate of the role.” Garrett looked as though that thought had not occurred to him.

“He is also a lot like Father and I,” Garrett said with some amusement. “He doesn’t like to hear that, though.”

“Why not?”

“Father was a mage. Carver often acted as if he felt Father didn’t love him as much as he loved Bethany,” Garrett sighed softly. “Mother fretted so much over Father and Bethany; and we moved so often when they were small that it was hard for them to make friends,” he looked at his red headed cousin with interest.

“Did you know twins often have their own language?” when she shook her head he nodded. “The two of them used to babble at one another and it would be real words; well real for the two of them.”

“That had to be interesting, since they aren’t that much younger than you,” Bronwynn commented. Garrett smiled in answer and gestured for them to move on. Bronwynn shook her head.

“I’m not really ready to head back to the mages, cousin,” she said to him. He frowned at her in question. “Wynn and Uldred are the two senior most Senior Enchanters and they are constantly at odds. No one trusts Uldred and he’s been spending a lot of time with Teyrn Loghain; which worries some of us,” she told him.

“Why?”

“Loghain is unhappy with Cailan’s obsession with the Grey Wardens, he is upset with Cailan’s talk of peace with Orlais,” Bronwynn sighed. “I can understand his concern, it hasn’t been that long since the war with Orlais ended, and we can’t truly trust that Celene isn’t playing some long Game,” she looked up at the stars through the branches of the old tree, breathed in the smell of cook fires from around the old fort.

“You have worries?” he asked.

“I don’t think we’re going to see the Archdemon here,” she told him. “I don’t sense it.”

“I didn’t know you were a Grey Warden,” Garrett said with a frown.

“I’m not,” she laughed. “I’m a mage, and a damn good one,” she went on with pride. He laughed in response. “The Maker gave me the ability Sense the changes in nature; like the taint that comes with the Blight,” she pointed out towards the battlefield area.

“The Wardens have the same ability,” Garrett said, Bronwynn snorted.

“No, they don’t until after their Joining,” she said with disdain. “A blood ritual that they don’t need to do to get the results they do; but heaven forbid they listen to the mage who’s done the research!” Bronwynn kept her voice down only because she didn’t want the whole world to know how the Wardens seemed to always know where the Darkspawn were.

“And the Wardens are the only one’s who can kill the Archdemons” Garrett said with some doubt. Bronwynn shrugged, although Garrett missed the movement in the fading light.

“I think I have another way of removing the soul of the Archdemon from the equation, but again, don’t ask the one doing the research!” she groused. Garrett laughed at her grumbling and pulled her into a one armed hug, surprised at how short she actually was. When she stiffened at his touch he hesitated.

“I’m sorry, Garrett,” she said, stepping away. “I have trouble with touching.”

“What happened?” he asked her, dropping his arm. Her deep breath told him she didn’t really want to talk about it. “Family should be able to tell each other the bad things as well as the good, cousin.” She turned to look at him, and the fire light on her expression made it clear she wasn’t sure what that really meant.

“Mages, well Circle mages, don’t get family” she said softly.

“You do now,” he replied. “Now tell me,” he ordered with kindness.

“For most of my life within the Circle I was,” she paused to search for the words.

“Don’t sugar coat it,” Garrett said.

“Tortured, then” she blurted and there was a burning anger in her voice that let Garrett know it was more than physical torture. She took another breath and let it out slowly. “Knight-Commander Greagoir and First Enchanter Irving said they were trying to keep me safe; but until four years ago the only thing they had really done was put me in my own room.” The young woman looked up at the tall dark haired man who now seemed to melt into the shadows of the tree. “No true protection from the other mages, no protection at all from the Templars.” another deep breath as she tried keep calm. Garrett turned so he was standing between her and the camp to help her relax.

“What happened four years ago?” he asked, hoping it was something positive.

“Greagoir brought in a Templar from the Honnleath Chantry. He’d just been made Lieutenant and was apparently not well liked,” she giggled at the snark.

“Not well liked?” Bronwynn shook her head.

“Actually, he is well respected. He is faithful and tries to be decent,” she didn’t hear the admiration she had for him in her voice. She didn’t hear the love either, she wouldn’t have cared if she had. Neither she nor Garrett had noticed that they had an audience of one; Alistair Theirin hadn’t meant to eavesdrop but upon hearing her speaking of her time in the Circle he hadn’t wanted to interrupt.

“So this Templar is special to you?” Garrett asked her. Her laughter was soft and full of irony.

“I love him, cousin. Crazy as it sounds for a mage to love a Templar,”

“Does he love you?” Garrett asked, with mostly mock severity. He could hear her smile when she responded.

“Yes, he does.”

“Good,” He looked up and could see it was getting close to midnight. “I am due on patrol soon, to relieve my moody brother,” he informed her. She looked up and sighed.

“I am due to a ritual with the Wardens, Alistair should be on his way soon.” She squared her shoulders and stepped into Garrett and gave him a quick hug. He returned it with warmth.

“Please don’t be a stranger, cousin; I know I would miss getting to know you and I imagine Carver would as well,” he said into her hair. She giggled.

“I won’t, I promise!” they heard a voice calling her name from behind and she introduced Alistair to Garrett. Alistair nodded and then turned to Bronwynn.

“Ready?” he asked her coldly. Bronwynn stepped back slightly but said yes. Garrett frowned as the two of them walked away, the mage having to walk quickly to keep up with the warrior’s longer strides.

 

The Ferelden Grey Warden Commander Duncan watched as his best friends son and the young mage walked towards him. From the way Alistair was walking and how the young girl was struggling to keep up he surmised there was trouble in paradise. Of course Duncan was fairly certain that Bronwynn hadn’t intentionally led Alistair to believe she wanted to be more than friends.

“The mage, Ser,” Alistair said curtly before stepping back. Duncan frowned, and when he did his visage was frightening indeed.

“I’m told,” he said to Bronwyn, although he wanted to ask Alistair what the problem was. “That you won’t take part in blood magic rituals.” Bronwynn shook her head.

“I won’t,” she said in confirmation.

“Why not?”

“I’m not a fool, neither am I weak nor a coward,” she replied. Her response making it clear how she felt. Duncan sighed in frustration. “You have your Warden mages to perform your ritual for your Joining; you don’t need me,” Bronwynn said with perfect neutrality.

“No, we don’t need you to perform that ritual. I want you to join the Wardens,” he said. She stood by the fire and looked at the older man for a long moment.

“Why?” She asked him. It wasn’t the first time he had asked her to join the Wardens, but it was the first time she had asked him why he wanted her to do so.

“You’re a powerful mage,” he said. As if that were the only reason that mattered. She shook her head, and waved her right hand at him to say more. “What else would you have me say?”

“You have mages in the Wardens; powerful mages. You don’t need another powerful mage. Why me? What do you think I can give to the Wardens by dying?” she asked bluntly. His eyes widened in surprise at her words and he rocked as if she had struck him a hard blow. Alistair bristled as if she had insulted his mentor.

“I have no desire to commit suicide by Darkspawn, Duncan; and I don’t think there are that many people who deserve that kind of devoted protection from me. Of the one’s that I feel do, I’d rather just keep close to me,” she gave him a small smile. “Why me?”

“Because you have new ideas,” he said.

“You think I would be unwilling to share these ideas with the Wardens unless I was one?” she asked incredulously. “I hate that you and Alistair are going to die at the hands of some Darkspawn!” She spat at him. “Even if you listen to me and use the crystals, like I suggest to end the Archdemon; you’ll still answer the Calling and die. Why would I want that?” Duncan could hear the hurt in her voice, the truth that she cared for him; old man that he was, and it touched him that she would find an old thief like him worth caring for.

“We’re not throwing our lives away for nothing,” Alistair spat at her. She whipped her body to face him.

“No, you’re not throwing your lives away; but you have a reason to die for others. I do not.” Alastair was stunned by how simply she made the statement.

“You don’t have anyone to fight for?” he sneered. She narrowed her eyes.

“I have no one to die for,” she retorted, and that made him stop and hear what she was saying. “The people I care for would rather I live for them, Alastair. As would I; I would rather those I care for live.” Her obvious sincerity touched both men deeply. It also meant much to them that she didn’t discount their choice to become Grey Wardens; their choice to face the never ending Darkspawn threat head-on.

“You have so much to offer the Order,” Duncan began again.

“And I am willing, more than willing,” Bronwynn interrupted him again. “To share all my research with the Order, to work with the Order. I don’t need to be a Warden to help the Order,” she repeated. Duncan sighed and shook his head.

“Why should I become tainted, Duncan, when I already know what it feels like?” she asked him. He shook his head in surprise.

“How can you?”

“There is a hollow, burning sensation below your breast, and a hunger that isn’t quite hunger. You can feel a pain in your head, like you’ve drank ice cold water far too quickly but it doesn’t really hurt,” She cupped a hand over her ear then. “The voices are the worst, though. You can almost understand what it’s saying; and the song is - compelling, for lack of a better word,” when both men seemed to be held speechless by her revelation she shook her head. “I have tried to tell you, repeatedly. I know the Blight. I may not know it as well as a Warden, but I do know it,” Duncan and Alastair were unsure how to respond; but the Warden mage that had been waiting for her had an answer.

“We can’t be sure you’ll be loyal to the Order if you aren’t one of us,”

Ferres said over the crackling of the bonfire as he stepped forward, hoping to startle her. He was disappointed.

“Ferres, I don’t think you can trust each other because of the taint you share,” she told them all. There were now three men facing her; all men she respected for their courage and devotion. Also three men she knew were dying and of them, only one she could actually hope to save.

“I don’t agree!” he spat. “You can’t say the Calling can be used against us!” the other three mages nodded their agreement.

“What is this?” Duncan asked.

“Nothing!” Ferres snarled before Bronwynn could answer, she simply shrugged her shoulders and let him speak.

“You are supposed to give me all her reports, Ferres,” Duncan reminded the older man. Ferres snarled again.

“She thinks the Calling could be used to trick the Wardens into premature deaths, or into foolhardy action,” his tone of voice made it clear that he thought it impossible that sensible men and women would be fools. Duncan, on the other hand thought about how she looked at the choice of becoming a Warden.

“Enchanter Bronwynn has very clear thoughts on the use of blood-magic,” Duncan said to the mage. He nodded their heads, their expressions making it clear he did not hold this against her. “The Joining is a blood ritual,” he went on. Again, the man nodded, clearly not understanding where Duncan was going with this line of thought; although Alastair’s mouth had opened in an ‘o’ denoting he had gotten it.

“So, if we are tied to the Blight, and the Darkspawn, through blood, then…” he attempted to lead him to say what she was worried for. Ferres said nothing.

“Then, when we’ve run out of Old Gods, the original Magisters; if there are any left alive, will then attempt to remake the world” Bronwynn answered for him. She gave it the sarcasm he himself had loaded the response with when he had given her the same response. He threw up his hands.

“They can’t still be alive!” Ferres shouted; at which Duncan cleared his throat and the other three people looked at him with differing degrees of horror.

“Well I can’t be sure,” he admitted, which comforted none of them. “It is also beside the point of this discussion.”

“To which even I can agree,” Bronwynn said, causing Ferres to blush when he would have argued. “The point was, I believe, to say that I can only be trusted if I am a Warden. If you feel that way, then,” she shrugged and looked to the Warden Commander. “I will take my leave,” she turned to do just that. Alastair and Duncan protested, so she turned back to them.

“I won’t do the Joining, I won’t become a Warden,” she said. “I am so proud to know all of you, and humbled by the sacrifices you willingly make; however I cannot and will not make them,” there was a rawness in her voice that bespoke a pain they all knew all too well; but where they wanted to prove they were worthy men - Bronwynn did not feel she needed to prove her worth to anyone. “I will share what I know with the Order, though, because it would do no one any good for me to keep my knowledge to myself,” she went on.

“That is all we truly can ask, Enchanter,” Ferres said with resignation. Bronwynn chuckled as she shook her head at his disappointed tone.

“I will help however I can, Wardens.”


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

 

Morning dawned cold, clear and icy. Snow had fallen through the long night to paint the tents and trees white. Bronwynn lie in her sleeping bag staring up at the ceiling of it. She had woken herself crying out from her dream.

_“I missed you,” he said, his voice reverberating across her bare skin, his breath scalding her where it caressed. “You were gone too long,” the whisper slid along under her left breast seconds before the tip of his tongue traced the scar that ran up the side. Her breath caught in her throat when his moist mouth closed over her nipple, sucking gently as he circled the raspberry tip._

_“Cullen!” she gasped, pulling him closer to her and arching her back to give him better access. His chuckle was wicked as he leaned back a bit, his teeth pulling her nipple gently as he did so._

_“You’re mine, witch,” he growled against her sternum. Her breathy agreement earned a growl of approval before he licked up her breastbone to her neck. She whimpered with need as she pulled on his hips, spreading her legs wide before locking her feet behind his knees and lifting her own hips in an attempt to pull him inside her._

_Her green eyes caught his blue ones and begged him to take her; her lips were parted and swollen from her biting them. He closed his lips over hers and swallowed her shriek of pleasure when he thrust himself fully into her; giving her his own groan of pleasure when he was fully sheathed. He felt her body go rigid as the walls of her pussy clamped on his penis_

_“Maker!” he growled against her lips, holding himself still by sheer force of will until her body relaxed under him. “Again,” he ordered as he began moving in her with long, smooth deep strokes. She gasped with the first thrust. “Again,” he repeated on the third stroke as he increased the force of his thrusts. Her breaths were coming faster, matching his thrusts. “Again,” he growled into her ear, slipping a hand between their bodies to roll her clit between his thumb and forefinger which sent her screaming over the edge. Her fingernails scored his back, drawing blood and sending him over the edge with her. His weight on her as they dozed was a comfort she had missed while away._

_“Again,” he whispered into her ear as he rolled her onto her stomach and lifted her hips._

Bronwynn had awoken as her lover entered her from behind, crying out as she orgasmed. She could feel him inside her, hear his voice ringing in her ears. Bronwynn could hear the camp beginning to waken, knew she should get up and start her day; but she allowed herself to cry for want of him.

 

“Enchanter,” Warden Ferres called out to her as she was heading for the healers tents. She arranged a wider smile on her face as she turned to greet the Warden Mage. He could see a sadness in her eyes, and he wondered what had happened to shadow them.

“Yes, Warden, how may I assist you?” she asked the older man.

“Duncan forced me to go over the research you and I have done with him; he feels perhaps there is validity in the theory,” he admitted. She laughed softly.

“You felt there was validity in the theory, Ferres,” Bronwynn reminded him.

“Well, yes, but you’re asking me to trust you to actually change the Tradition!” he exclaimed as they turned away from the healers and went back to her tent.

“Well, here,” she said to him with exasperation. “You take this, see if it works and then tell me my theory is shite,” she thrust a stack of parchments at him. He frowned.

“What is this?”

“I have taken the information you and I have gathered and applied it to my current research, this would be a chance to prove me wrong, Warden.” her voice snapped with vehemence and he stepped back, holding his hands up in supplication.

“I never meant to claim you were wrong,” Ferres said placatingly. “I simply wanted Duncan to understand I didn’t agree with you.” The explanation almost sounded like a whine and Bronwynn sighed in exasperation.

“Perhaps, but now you can see for yourself if I’m right or wrong,” she replied, attempting to not sound as if she wanted to slap him. The older man sighed himself.

“I am sorry, Bronwynn. I handled it badly,” he admitted. Bronwynn simply nodded. Before either could say more, a familiar baritone could be heard approaching, making one of his usual sarcastic jokes.

“Bronwynn, please come out here and tell this man you’re staying here,” Alistair quipped as he rapped on the wooden support at the front of her tent. She poked her red head out of the opening to be greeted by the blond man and a taller, broader black haired man. Her eyes widened in appreciation as she took him all in. Tall was an understatement, he easily topped Alistair by half a foot. His hair was raven’s wing black, it gleamed blue in the sunlight in places. His eyes were the same blue as a clear winter’s sky and his shoulders were built for sword and shield work. He carried a Warden’s shield on his back and a bastard sword on his left hip. His hips were narrower than his shoulders and chest, although not by much and Bronwynn found herself admiring his thick legs as much as the rest of him. His look was rugged, craggy and fierce compared to the regal refinement of Alistair’s features.

“I would gladly do so, Warden, if I knew what you were talking about,” she quipped as she and Ferres stepped from her tent. She caught the slight narrowing of Alistair’s brown eyes and wondered about the cause.

“Warden Blackwall,” the dark haired man said, reaching out to envelop Bronwynn’s small hand in his large one. Bronwynn caught herself thinking about where else she would like him to touch and had to force herself to keep her mind on the conversation. “Duncan has asked me to escort you to Weisshaupt,” his voice was deeper than Cullen’s and she could feel the rumble through her chest from even this distance. She realized what he had said and turned to Alistair in confusion.

“I don’t recall agreeing to that, Wardens, what is the meaning of this?” she asked, specifically Alistair. Ferres cleared his throat and mentioned he and Blackwall should head back to talk to Duncan. Bronwynn frowned even more darkly as the two older men left her with the younger man.

Alistair turned away for a moment to see how secluded they were, and when he wasn’t happy with their privacy he took her left hand and pulled her behind him to drag her to a more private area. Bronwynn followed after him as quickly as she could without tripping over her feet.

“Alistair,” she started to say when suddenly they were in a very dense copse of trees and he pressed her against one of the fir trees and kissed her. Bronwynn groaned in pleasure and melted into the kiss for a long moment, and if Alistair hadn’t made his own sounds of pleasure she may have kept on kissing him. He didn’t sound like Cullen, however and she came to herself when she heard him. She tried to pull her mouth away only to be caught up in his kiss again.

She gasped for air when he broke the kiss and then she twisted out of his grasp; panting from desire and guilt.

“Alistair!” she exclaimed, holding out her hand to keep him from reaching for her again. His own breathing was heavy and his brown eyes were dark with desire.

“What is wrong with me?” he asked her, anger and frustration mixing with his desire.

“What?” Bronwynn asked in confusion.

“You are attracted to me, I’m not confused on that point, am I?” he asked her, he leaned forward but didn’t move toward her. Bronwynn shook her head and then nodded her head.

“Oh!” she shouted. “Why do this to me today!” she demanded. Alistair narrowed his eyes at her again.

“Okay, yes! I do think you’re attractive. You even smell right!” she said, her face in flames from her embarrassment.

“Then why?” he asked, taking a step forward; only to stop when she took a step back. “Why don’t you want me?”

“Because I love another!” she answered, and Alistair seemed to sink in upon himself when she said it. Her breath caught in her throat and she wanted to reassure him, but she also didn’t want him to think she was encouraging him. “I’m sorry, Alistair, I never meant,” He turned his back to her and stepped back to the tree he had kissed her against and drove his fist into the trunk, sending bark flying. “Alistair!” she gasped, rushing to grab the hand he had just broken; even though he made no sound when it broke.

“Don’t,” he growled at her, jerking his hand away. “Pretend you care,” he finished. She growled in exasperation.

“I love someone else, it doesn’t mean I don’t care about you!” she snarled as she grabbed his arm, and pulled his hand to her again. “Andraste's knickers, Alistair! I never meant to lead you on, I’m sorry!” she said as she gently opened his fist. She began straightening the fingers as she pulsed healing energy into the abused digits.

“But you’ll sleep with a mage,” he sneered when she was finished healing his hand. Her head snapped up and her green eyes flashed with hurt before she stepped back and pulled a mask of politeness over her expression.

“Is there anything else you wanted to discuss, Warden?” she asked him, and he groaned.

“I’m sorry, Bronwynn, that was unfair,” he admitted. “I know you weren’t trysting with Ferres.” Bronwynn simply looked at him.

“I’m an ass,” Alistair confessed. “A jealous ass, because I hoped,” he stopped and looked up at the canopy of leaves. “I hoped you would care for me the way I care for you,” he said softly. Bronwynn sighed in resignation.

“If I didn’t love another, Alistair, I could easily love you. You are worthy, but I fell for him,” she shrugged helplessly. He smiled self-deprecatingly at her, his charm still shining through.

“I-” he faltered, searching for what he wanted to say. “I guess I don’t know what I really wanted,” he said. Bronwynn shook her head.

“I _am_ flattered you think I’m worthy of your attention, Alistair, just-” she smiled. “I won’t be one of those women,” she said softly and Alistair gave her his rogue's grin, and if she had been free she would have kissed him just for that grin alone.

“I don’t want you to be one of those women, Bronwynn,” he said before he sighed in defeat. “Duncan and Ferres and Blackwall spent most of the night discussing your theories,” Alistair changed the subject to alleviate his embarrassment.

“What has that to do with me going to Weisshaupt?” Bronwynn asked him.

“Duncan and Blackwall think the theory is sound enough to take it to the First Warden,” he shrugged in response. “Blackwall is a Warden-Constable, serving under Duncan for the time being. He and Duncan were deep in discussion after the rest of us turned in,” Alistair shook his head. “They think you may be on to a way to save the Wardens and keep us relevant to saving the world,” there was a slight quip to the statement that made Bronwynn smile, but it was only a small smile.

“Why Weisshaupt?” she asked in confusion.

“That is the main fortress for the Wardens, it is where the First Warden is. He will take you there before he goes back to Val Chevin,” Alistair said, he reached out with his hand, the one he had broken. Bronwynn took it and he gently squeezed her fingers before leading her out of the copse of trees.

“Am I getting a say?” she laughingly asked. Alistair shook his head.

“I think Blackwall is supposed to convince you,” the blond ex-Templar said with feeling. “We all want you to stay with the Wardens, Bronwynn,” he said in earnest. “You’ll be free of the Circle, of the Chantry’s laws,” he said; and Bronwynn could tell he was confused by this truth.

“Alistair, I never feared the Chantry,” she wrapped her arms around his bicep and squeezed it in a friendly manner. “I feared the Templars and mages,” she sighed as her thoughts turned once more to Cullen. “I feared them because there were enough of them who wanted to hurt me that I couldn’t feel safe,” she stopped walking, and they were in the middle of the mage and Templar camp. “I’m safer with you by my side than with any of these, my so called brothers and sisters. The Templar’s have gotten far too used to having power over we sinful mages. Too used to being able to punish us because they fear us,” she looked at her handsome friend and smiled sadly as they began walking again.

“I have my freedom, all mages do. We simply have to prove we are capable of controlling our magic to the First Enchanters satisfaction. Irving was allowing me to come and go from the Tower once I had my bodyguard,” she nodded at Wynn and Uldred. Uldred was glaring at her and Wynn was smiling indulgently. “Most of the Enchanters and all the Senior Enchanters have the ability to go whenever and wherever they like, so long as they get permission from First Enchanter first,” she smiled wryly as the two of them meandered into the Kings camp.

“You could always ask your,” he swallowed and hesitated slightly before he continued. “ _Lover_ to go with you.” Bronwynn laughed sadly at the statement.

“Would you leave the Wardens to go with me?” she asked him. He took a breath to answer when she interrupted his thought. “Please be honest, Alistair,” she said softly, causing him to close his mouth before he answered.

“No, in all honesty, I wouldn’t” he admitted to the girl, who simply raised her brows and nodded at him. “He’s not a Warden, though,” Alistair said with a straight face.

“Alistair,” she said, dragging his name out as a rebuke.

“Well, who is this man I can’t compete with?” he asked with a touch of anger. She tsked at the Warden before laughingly answering him.

“You shouldn’t ever want to compete for any woman’s affections, you are worth wanting on your own merits,” his face flamed into redness from the sincere compliment. “But if you must know he’s a Templar,” she said. He pulled them to a stop to gawp at the red head.

“He’s _my_ Templar, Alistair, and I would never ask him to forsake his chosen duty any more than I would ask you to give up yours,” he looked into her emerald green eyes and conceded the point.

“I hope he cares as much for you, Bronwynn. You deserve it, as well.” Bronwynn smiled her only true smile of the day, then; lightening Alistair’s heart for the rest of what turned out to be an awful day.

 


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

 

Alistair had left Bronwynn in the Kings camp to return to the Warden camp. He had decided to try and convince Duncan not to send her to Weisshaupt just yet. He wasn’t sure why he cared so much for the mage; but he did and he wanted her to be happy, even if it wasn’t with him. He had hated seeing her in tears yesterday and this morning she was so down it made him feel down.

“Why are you so sure it won’t work, Ferres?” Alistair could hear Blackwall’s rumbling voice as he neared the main campfire.

“I’m not, actually, I just don’t want it to,” the Warden Mage admitted. Both Duncan and Blackwall barked laughter at this admission. The mage merely grunted in response. The three men turned to look at Alistair as he approached and Alistair once again felt the warmth of knowing these men were his brothers; not just his brothers in arms but the brothers in spirit as well. The bond they shared was deeper than blood and even more unbreakable.

“Alistair, just who we needed,” Duncan said jovially and Alistair stopped walking to narrow his brown eyes at the older man suspiciously.

“Don’t dawdle, little brother, come take your medicine!” Blackwall nigh shouted with the same humor Duncan was showing. This made the younger man even more nervous.

“The last time the three of you gave me ‘medicine’ I passed out for two hours,” Alistair quipped, causing all three men to laugh heartily.

“Aye, and if your lady love is correct, you’ll pass out again,” Ferres replied around his laughter. He picked up a goblet and poured in a deep red liquid; it wasn’t blood but it had that color. He then heated the liquid with magical fire for a few seconds before filling the goblet with wine from a very full skein. He then gave the liquid a quick chill before handing it to the young Warden.

“She’s not my lady love,” Alistair said with a bit more bite than he meant to put into it. The others sobered quickly when they heard the bitterness. They had, of course, known she hadn’t felt the same, but they had hoped he’d take it better when he realized it.

“Well, boy, at least this won’t kill you,” Ferres said, motioning for Alistair to drink up. Alistair sighed and did as instructed.

“It tastes better than the Darkspawn blood,” Alistair said after swallowing the contents in one large gulp. The others laughed again, but at his face.

“It can’t taste too much better, youngun,” Blackwall laughed. “You look like your face has turned inside out!” Alistair opened his mouth to answer but no sound emerged. Instead a dark, viscous substance exploded from his mouth, coating Blackwall. Ferres shouted for someone to get the Senior Enchanter when Alistair then began to make a keening sound that was high pitched enough those around him wondered how he was able to make such a sound.

Alistair’s vision had gone red and he heard a single warped tone throughout his whole being. He felt his muscles lock and he could feel something flowing out of his mouth for a brief second before his entire body exploded in pain. He could feel every single pore on his body open and then it felt as if there were maggots crawling out of every inch of his skin, boring out of his pupils, causing the skin of his lips to wrinkle and peel off his face.

He felt himself crumple forward, but did not feel strong arms grabbing him to keep him from landing in the fire. Alistair felt his lungs catch fire from the lack of air; the red in his vision began to sparkle with sharp pinpricks of light before all went black.

Alistair was able to think, through it all; and he prayed to the maker for unconsciousness. His limbs began to shake and he could feel the moisture from tears slipping down his fevered cheeks, scalding him more with the iciness of them. He tried to scream but couldn’t draw a breath. He wanted someone to end him, and when his heart stopped beating he thought it was over.

 

“Bronwynn!” She turned her head at the urgent calling of her name. She saw one of the Wardens running towards her, he seemed to be covered in something tar like. There was a look of such terror on his face it took her a moment to recognize him.

“Warden Blackwall, what’s wrong?” she called, running towards him.

“It’s Alistair!” he said and was shocked to see her face fall as if her heart had stopped beating. She asked no more questions, simply lengthened her stride to run past him. He Turned and caught up to her, although he didn’t have to slow down to keep up with her. The young woman waved her hand in front of them and there were shouts of outrage and shock as well as fear when people were shoved out of their way but she did not stop. He could hear her whispering with every step they took.

When they reached the campfire she slid to her friends side and planted her hands on either side of his head; a green light encased both of them. Ferras; who had been kneeling beside Alistair, was thrown two feet back; to be followed by Bronwynn seconds after. Her brows flew up and her mouth fell open in shock.

“What in the Abyss happened to him?” she demanded of the shocked men standing around their now convulsing brother. Bronwynn scrambled back to Alistair’s side, frantically running her long fingers down his arms, then chest and waist. She began unlacing the Warden’s armor; Ferres and Blackwall began to help, making short work of the process. The three of them were horrified to see the pool of dark fluid pooling under him once his armor was removed.

“Ferres!” she shouted at the stunned mage; when the scent hit them all. It was the blight and they all knew that smell.

“I gave him the potion!” Ferres shouted back at her while Duncan began barking orders for the spectators to return to their duties.

“How much?” Bronwynn asked in concern, Ferres looked at her askance before answering

“The whole bottle,” he said as if it were obvious and she groaned aloud.

“The instructions say four ounces, not the whole bottle!” she nearly shrieked at the older man. “Are you trying to kill him?” Ferres’ eyes widened in alarm as Bronwynn began barking orders to the remaining Wardens. Alistair was lifted bodily from the ground and moved to a nearby table. Bronwynn moved to Ferres’ potion supplies and began hastily mixing a liquid, her lips moving as she seemed to be talking to herself quietly.

“Open his mouth!” she shouted as she ran to the table; Duncan pinched Alistair’s jaw to open and she poured a purple liquid into his mouth. Duncan held his mouth closed while Bronwynn held his nose closed, forcing him to swallow the potion. Bronwynn counted to ten before she removed her hand and allowed him to breathe. She placed her right hand over the center of his sternum, concentrating on what she could feel. When his body relaxed and the fluid stopped pouring from his pores she sighed in relief.

Bronwynn raised her eyes and caught Duncan’s gray eyes with her green one’s . She could see the question in his eyes.

“He’ll live,” she said with relief clear in her voice and on her face. “We’ll need to make sure he gets lots of water and sleep, but he’ll live,” she said. Both Duncan and Blackwall closed their eyes in relief, Ferres seemed to still be stunned by the reaction.

Duncan began to pace and his stride was full of anger as well as concern. He rounded on Ferres and began firing questions at him, giving the mage no time to answer. The mage stood and faced the angry Warden-Commander with fury of his own. They began arguing while Blackwall watched the redhead; who kept her eyes on her friend. She raised her green eyes to his brown ones.

“Can you feel it?” she whispered, almost too softly for him to hear. He didn’t understand what she meant and gave her a questioning look. She repeated the question, holding her left hand over her middle, understanding her this time he concentrated of sensing the taint. His eyes widened in shock; it was there. Different than the Darkspawn, different even than the other Wardens; but it was there. Blackwall smiled, feeling himself relax even more knowing that Alistair would still be recognized as a Warden.

“Duncan, quit berating the poor mage and use your senses!” Blackwall ground out at the Commander. Duncan turned and faced the Free Marcher to begin ‘berating’ him as well when the statement registered. Both he and Ferres turned their senses inward and found their brother still with them; different but with them. When they looked up at the young Enchanter she was smiling triumphantly.

“He won’t die!” she laughingly shouted. “He won’t! The Calling can’t reach him!” The others looked at her with varying degrees of concern.

“What do you mean?” Blackwall asked her suspiciously. “I can still feel him through the taint,” he told her.

“But it’s different than Duncan and Ferres, right?” she asked gleefully. He nodded uncertainly. “You can’t feel me, but I can feel all of you! He’s not tainted any longer, the blight is out of his system,” she was almost jumping with joy.

“Then why can we still feel him?” Ferres asked her.

“Because he didn’t lose his connection to it! That was the whole point!” she informed the stunned mage. “I wanted a way to let people still be connected to the Blight, to be able to sense the Darkspawn but be separate from it!” she had begun to dance around now.

“He won’t feel the Calling, he won’t be sensed by the Darkspawn themselves - he’s too different for that; but he will be able to find them, and be able to use that to the Warden’s advantage!” her excitement was contagious, although the Wardens who were near were more cautionary than she was.

“Can you do that to the rest of us?” Blackwall asked her, diminishing her joy. She stopped dancing and faced the Wardens who were gathered around their brother and sighed sadly.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “It can only work on someone who has been tainted less than a year, or who has no taint at all,” she said. Duncan caught Ferres nodding his head in agreement.

“That is why it had to be Alistair you gave it to,” The Warden-Commander said to the Warden mage. Ferres nodded his head.

“We had already determined that it wouldn’t work on those of us who were senior Wardens,” The mage had gray hair, a fully wrinkled face and gnarled hands. He looked far older than he actually was, and Duncan knew it was because of the taint. It made them all older than they were, it sapped their vitality; and the longer they were tainted the easier it was for the Blight to affect them. Duncan turned to look at the other wardens he had brought with him to Ferelden to fight this blight.

“This is what I have been trying to tell you I can offer,” Bronwynn said, much subdued. “I can’t prevent you dying from killing the Archdemon, or from bad luck; but I can allow you to stay yourselves longer!” her vehemence touched all the Wardens present.

“Weisshaupt may not like the idea, but I say let me take her and her research. The more Wardens who survive the Joining, the better for all of us,” Blackwall said somberly. The other Wardens nodded their agreement.

“In Peace, Vigilance; In War, Victory; In Death, Sacrifice,” the collected Wardens recited as one.

“This will give us an edge, give us victory,” Ferres said; and as he was normally opposed to anything that broke tradition that decided the Ferelden Warden-Commander as nothing else could have.

“Senior Enchanter Bronwynn,” Duncan said as he turned to face the young woman. “I hereby conscript you to the Wardens, to use your knowledge for the safety of all Thedas,” Bronwynn almost chuckled at the intonation if Duncan hadn’t been so serious.

“I won’t force the Joining on you, but from this day forward you are a Warden,” Bronwynn’s eyes widened in surprise, she hadn’t expected that. “Warden Bronwynn, you will accompany Warden Blackwall to Weisshaupt where you will work with the Warden mages to perfect this potion. From there I’m sure the First Warden will send you out recruiting,” he said with some sarcasm, allowing her to smile at his wit.

“We’ll leave in the morning, first light,” Blackwell informed her, she nodded in understanding.

“I’ll go as far as Lothering with you,” Duncan said. “I’m going to see if I can find a few more recruits,” Blackwall nodded his understanding. Bronwynn asked the Wardens to help her get Alistair to his tent. She found several healers who were willing to keep an eye on the unconscious Warden. Two of them were a little more interested in his welfare than she thought was warranted; but as long as he got good care she wouldn’t worry about it. As she was leaving Alistair’s tent she caught sight of Duncan and Blackwall standing near the main fire conversing. She marveled at how similar their coloring was. Each had black hair, although Blackwall’s was longer; to the bottom of his neck compared to Duncan’s which was short. Both men were in their forties and clearly seasoned warriors, although Duncan wielded two weapons to Blackwall’s great-sword. Their physiques were different due to their weapon choices, Duncan being slight while Blackwall was broad, both men had well defined muscles. They were clearly old enough to be her father, but fine looking men none-the-less.

Bronwynn made her way over to them, knowing she was going to have to convince Blackwall to stop at the Tower before they left Ferelden. She couldn’t leave without seeing Cullen once more. Her heart constricted at the thought of not seeing him for even longer.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

1 week later

 

Bronwynn, Duncan and Blackwall were laughing at the antics of one of the soldiers who had accompanied them on their journey. They were in Dane’s Refuge, the tavern in Lothering and the soldier was performing a jig to the minstrel’s song. The trip so far had been uneventful, and for that Bronwynn was grateful. She had seen enough fighting the last two months to last her a lifetime; and she knew she would be doing more fighting. The thought sobered her merriment and she excused herself to go outside for some fresh air.

Lothering was a large enough town to warrant its own Chantry chapel and a contingent of Templars. The last time she had been through Lothering had been with Cullen the summer before while on their way to Denerim. She remembered the looks the Templars had given him when the two of them had checked into one room here in the Tavern. Had they heard the two of them that night they would most likely have tried to make her Tranquil. She smiled at the memory and ran her hands down her stomach as desire pooled from the memory of his hands and mouth on her; she leaned against the side of the building when her knees went slightly weak when she could actually feel him inside her.

Bronwynn heard the clank of metal armor and could smell the polish that Templars used on their armor. She kept her sigh mental and her face blank. Hopefully they wouldn’t see her in the shadow of the building as she was wearing her leathers and not the brightly colored robes that most mages tended to wear.

“You there, show yourself,” one of the Templars demanded. He sounded older and when Bronwynn stepped out from the shadows she could see that one was considerably older than the other. She remembered him from the summer before; Cullen had reported the Darkspawn attack and to let him know that they were passing through. This Templar had been outraged that the mage had been allowed out of the tower. Of course she actually looked like a mage at the time, Cullen had insisted she wear robes when they came into town. It had been an overall good thing since they had been left alone by most of the people in town. No one other than this Templar had been rude to her and truly none of the villagers had even looked askance at her. Now that she knew her cousins lived here perhaps that was why.

“Why are you hiding?” the Templar asked roughly.

“I wasn’t hiding, Ser Templar, I was resting,” she said pleasantly. The Templar narrowed his eyes at her but grunted and the two of them moved on. Bronwynn shook her head and decided to head to the Chantry. The night was cold and Bronwynn shivered as she strolled through the village. She could hear snippets of conversations as she walked forward and would chuckle at what she would hear. 

She crossed the stone bridge over the stream and turned toward the wooden building that housed the Chantry. She could hear singing coming from the building, the voice was beautiful and compelling. As she entered into the chapel she could see the singer; a statuesque; elfin featured woman with bright red hair and sky blue eyes. The song finished and Bronwynn could hear a contralto voice speaking to the woman.

“That was lovely, Sister Leliana,” Bronwynn watched a young woman who was remarkably familiar looking stand up and face the singer.

“Thank you, Bethany,” the sister said, her accent marked her as Orlesian even though her features marked her as Fereldan.  Bronwynn had to wait for the girl to turn around before she recognized Carver in the girls face. She could also see Garrett in the girls walk. When Bethany drew nearer, Bronwynn spoke.

“Are you Bethany Hawke?” she asked softly, the brunette was startled but answered in the affirmative.

“I’m Bronwynn Amell; your cousin,” Bronwynn didn’t notice how shy she sounded. Bethany raised her eyebrows in surprise. “I met Garrett and Carver a couple of weeks ago at Ostagar,” she said to finish the introduction. Bethany smiled shyly and held out her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you!” Bethany exclaimed. “What brings you to Lothering? How are my brothers? Is the fighting terrible?” Although she kept her voice soft, the questions were quite enthusiastic. Bronwynn chuckled, seeing how Carver could adore the girl more than he resented her.

“I am on my way to the Tower for a brief stopover before I go to Orlais. When last I saw them, Carver had just been put in charge of his own squad; Garrett has been working with the Ash Warriors since he has his own Mabari,” Bethany gave a low laugh at that. “And yes, the fighting has been bad. The Archdemon hasn’t shown up yet, and I don’t think it’s going to do so at Ostagar,” Bronwynn confided. Bethany sighed; and that sigh contained all of her fear and anxiety.

“I miss them,” she said. “Mother does as well, she worries so much about them; as do I,” the young girl admitted.

“Carver misses  you, although he won’t admit it I don’t think,” Bronwynn said. Bethany smiled and nodded her agreement.

“He wouldn’t, he’d want to be stoic,” Bethany said. The two of them sat down in a pew to continue their conversation. “Garrett will say he misses us, but won’t actually show us,” Bethany looked to the front of the chapel for a brief moment. “You’re a mage?” she finally asked. Bronwynn nodded. 

“I’ve been in the Calenhad Circle since I was four,” Bronwynn said. Bethany’s eyes widened in shock. “I came into my magic early,” Bronwynn said with a shrug. Bethany laughed softly at that.

“When did you learn to control your fear?” the younger girl asked softly. Bronwynn took her hand to get Bethany to look at her.

“Have you ever been tempted to summon a demon to do the work for you?” Bronwynn asked, Bethany frowned and shook her head. “Have you ever actually listened to a Demon in your dreams?” Again, Bethany shook her head. “Are you afraid you’re going to hurt someone?” Bronwynn asked, and this time Bethany nodded.

“I have a temper,” Bethany admitted, to which Bronwynn giggled.

“Well, I always found a way to channel the anger or fear into my spells. I can store the energy until I need it,” Bronwynn said. “I can show you how, if you would like,” Bethany’s eyes widened in pleasure.

“That would be lovely,” she answered.

“Then let me show you now,” Bronwynn said. She spent the next hour showing her young cousin different ways of using the energy of her emotions to power her spells. When they were done she could already see the younger girl felt far more confident in her skills.

“Your father taught you well,” Bronwynn said with a sad smile. Bethany nodded, a small sad smile of her own.

“He died three years ago, I miss him still,” Bethany said. “I am glad that I was able to meet you, though,” Bethany said happily. “How long are you staying?” she asked.

“I think we’re here through Thursday*,” Bronwynn said. “Why?”

“I think Mother would love to meet you, if you can come out to the farm,” Bethany invited.

“I’ll make no promises, but I will try,” the redhead said in response. Bethany hugged her impulsively and they parted ways. Bronwynn turned towards the front of the chapel and sat back down in the pew. She said no prayers, simply enjoyed the silence. When one of the Lay Sisters came around to douse the candles she slowly made her way back to the tavern.

She was nearing the bridge when she heard a familiar walking pattern coming her way. She moved to the side of the bridge, leaning against the wall to wait on him.

“Bronwynn, there you are,” Blackwell said, almost in relief.

“Why, yes Warden, here I am,” she said laughingly. He smiled at the sound of her laughter; he liked hearing it since she didn’t laugh often. He wished there were more light so he could see her smile. He knew he was far too old for her; but a man could fantasize. 

“I was looking for you,” he said, needlessly.

“I gathered,” Bronwynn said with a smile in her voice to lessen the bite of her wit.

“Can we talk?” The older man asked suddenly; he sounded surprised by his audacity. Bronwynn linked her slender arm through his muscular crooked one.

“Can it wait until tomorrow, Blackwall? I’m actually a bit worn out,” she asked. He grunted and led her back to the tavern. It was most likely for the best; she’d probably just turn him down, anyway.

“Of course,” he said when she paused to look at him. She squeezed his arm as they walked the rest of the way in silence. Blackwall wondered how Duncan could think of the woman as a child; but then pushed the thought aside when they reached the tavern. She said her goodnights and made her way to her room. She had insisted on getting one of the smaller rooms since she was the only female in the group. The others were doubled and tripled in the rooms; which many of them found annoying. Duncan and Blackwall were doubled, and Duncan snored.

“You know why she wants to go back to the Tower?” one of the guards asked the Warden Commander. Duncan merely shook his head. The guard grunted.

“She should stay there,” he said with a mouth full of bitterness. Both Wardens looked at the man with anger.

“Why?” Blackwall asked the man, pending violence clear in his voice.

“Mages are dangerous, it’s their fault we’re having a blight!” he exclaimed. Both Wardens shook their head; this was a common issue that mages dealt with. Duncan caught Blackwall’s eye and shook his head slightly. His old friend was enamored of the mage and thus very protective. Duncan himself thought of the girl as a daughter, so felt protective for that reason.

“Perhaps you should judge the woman on her own behavior, and not the behavior of the past,” Duncan said with vehemence. The guard said bah and went upstairs. Duncan and Blackwall began discussing different routes Duncan could take to get to Terynir Highever. He had decided against going to the Circle Tower until he was on his way to Orzammar. Blackwall had voiced the opinion he should head to the Brecilian Forrest first; but Duncan wanted to wait until he had recruits with him.

Forty-five minutes had passed when they heard a shout from upstairs; followed by the sound of electricity. They were up, followed by the other guards; and halfway up the stairs when the guard who had been so disparaging of Bronwynn came flying through the door to her room amid a storm of splinters. 

Bronwynn stepped into the now open doorway, her gown ripped halfway open, a large bruise forming on the side of her face and blood dripping from a long, thin slice on her neck. Her green eyes were bright in the firelight and lightning sparked from her closed fists. She turned to see Duncan and Blackwall standing in shock, weapons drawn.

“He’ll live,” she snarled before waving her right hand and causing the door to reform itself, they heard it lock. The men stood still for a brief moment before turning to the singed guard. He was conscious and began blubbering about her attacking him. Duncan and Blackwall stepped aside when they felt a hand on their shoulders. The guard’s friends were converging on him, and the Wardens could see the man may not live through the night.

“Should we?” Duncan asked his friend softly; Blackwall shook his head.

“Let them deal with the bastard,” the dark haired Warden growled. “They could all see what he intended,” he finished. Duncan merely nodded and the two men watched as the four other guards drug their friend out of the tavern.

Duncan knocked on Bronwynn’s door, it was jerked open almost instantly. He could see she was ready for another fight, her dagger in one fist, fire ready in the other. She had used magic to open the door since she was a good five feet back and two feet to the side of the door.

“He picked the lock,” Bronwynn said ferociously. “He was very quiet about it, too,” she continued. Duncan held out a hand to the girl; who sheathed her dagger and burst into sobs, running into his arms.   
“Why?” she sobbed into the older man’s chest as he closed his arms around her.

“Because he felt powerless and afraid and wanted to prove he was stronger than you,” Duncan said softly, rubbing circles on her back. She sobbed harder, and he found a chair to sit in and pulled her into his lap while she cried. When she finally stopped crying, he let her sit up.

“I know it’s not my fault, Duncan,” she said as she took his handkerchief and wiped her face. “Cullen has made sure I understand that I don’t invite it,” Duncan had no idea who Cullen was, but didn’t interrupt her. “But _why_ do people think they can abuse me?” she asked with a plaintive note in her voice. It was the first time Duncan had heard the girl sound as young as she was. 

“That I can’t answer, Bronwynn,” he said, knowing she didn’t actually expect him to answer. Her sardonic chuckle let him know he was correct. She suddenly blushed and scrambled off his lap.

“I’m so sorry, Commander,” she stammered as she stepped back into the center of the room. He waved away her apology.

“I’m an old man, Warden, standing while you cried wasn’t an option,” he smiled to show he wasn’t serious. The young woman blushed an even deeper red but simply nodded her head. “Try and get some sleep, Bronwynn, I’ll be outside the door if you need anything,” he saw her open her mouth and take a breath; before he could stop any objection she had she closed her mouth and once again simply nodded. He left, closing the door behind him. Blackwall was standing there with his own sleeping bag and a pillow and blankets from their room.

“I can,” Duncan started to say when Blackwall interrupted him.

“You aren’t as invested as I am, old friend; let me do this,” the two men looked at one another for a moment.

“I fear you may be disappointed, friend, I think she’s in love with someone else,” Duncan warned. The other Warden simply smiled and shook his head.

“It doesn’t change what I would wish, now does it?” Duncan nodded his understanding and patted his friend on the shoulder before going into the room they were going to share before this night’s fracas. He sighed as he settled into the bed, plans running through his mind until he drifted into fitful sleep full of Darkspawn and Archdemons.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The sun was high overhead but the wind still bit through Bronwynn’s leathers. She had been careful to wear an overcoat made of reinforced leather to help keep the cold at bay; but this was central Fereldan, it was going to be cold this far into winter. She was happy to see there was green grass growing, even if it was mostly tundra. It gave her hope for the spring. She was making her way to the outskirts of Lothering, to the farm that Bethany had said was her families. After the night before she needed the company of women; the guardsmen had made sure to be respectful of her, and none of the four present showed anything other than approval for her actions against their friend, but she was weary of being around all of the men.

She heard Bethany calling her name as she came to a small field of herbs. It was mostly Elfroot, but she could see Royal Elfroot along one edge. Bethany was in another field that had long furrows of water running through it. It looked like they had created a small group of long islands in the river, Bronwynn was impressed with the ingenuity. She carefully made her way over to where Bethany was tending to Spindleweed and Blood Loti.

“Wow, this is impressive!” she complimented. Bethany’s smile was wide with pride.

“My father and I started with the Elfroot; to make simple healing potions for selling,” she gestured to the field she was in; it wasn’t more than ten feet by ten feet but it was full of healthy Spindleweed and Blood Loti. The four herbs were good for healing potions as well as lyrium potions for mages; although the Hawkes probably didn’t have the connections to get lyrium. Bronwynn knelt down and looked over the plant in front of her and was even more impressed.

“These are very good specimens!” Bronwynn exclaimed. “I’d have loved to use these when I was researching healing herbs!” Bethany smiled even wider, her shoulders squaring in pride.

“Thank you, I thought they looked better than the wild ones, but I wasn’t sure,” Bronwynn nodded in understanding.

“It’s hard to grow these herbs, sometimes; even though they are so prolific in the wild. I’m impressed you have managed to grow so many,” Bronwynn brushed her hands as she stood up, this is when Bethany realized that Bronwynn was wearing leather armor, not mage robes.

“Why are you wearing armor?” She asked incredulously.

“Because robes are no protection,” Bronwynn said simply.

“I guess being at Ostagar would require more protection,” Bethany said with a question in her voice. Bronwynn nodded her head.

“That is true, but I’ve been wearing actual armor for years,” she made it sound like it was a preference, not a necessity so Bethany dropped the subject.

“I told Mother about you, and she’s looking forward to meeting you, she should have breakfast done, if you would like to join us,” the younger woman said in a slight rush. Bronwynn smiled at her cousin and nodded.

“That sounds lovely,” She answered. The two ladies made their way to a humble but well kept cottage. The smell of breakfast filled the air as they came closer to the building.

Bethany introduced Bronwynn to Leandra, who took the girls hands in her own and stated how much like her mother she looked.

“It’s too bad all your siblings were mages, as well,” Leandra stated, causing Bronwynn’s eyes to widen.

“I have siblings?” she asked with some excitement. Leandra frowned slightly.

“Didn’t you know?”

“No ma’am, I didn’t. I thought I was their only child,” there was a wistfulness in the young woman’s voice that touched Leandra.

“You’re oldest brother was taken to the Circle in Kirkwall; you have an older sister who was taken to the Ostwick Circle and then there were the twins. They were older than you by a few years, they were taken to the Starkhaven Circle; Revka told me they had died from the flu. You, being the youngest, were taken the farthest. I think it was because they wanted to be sure you weren’t accessible to the family.”

“Why?” Bronwynn asked softly.

“Because Kirkwall is run by Templars, my love,” Leandra said sadly. “Our family lost much of it’s power by the time you were born,” she informed the young girl. “I know Revka will be ecstatic to know you live,” Leandra paused for a moment, then offered. “I can give you her direction, if you’d like to write to her yourself,” The look of hope and hunger in Bronwynn’s eyes assured Leandra she would like that even before the red haired mage said yes.

“Can we eat now, Mother?” Bethany laughingly asked, in an attempt to lighten the mood. Both women nodded and laughed with the dark haired mage and they set to the humble but well made breakfast.

 

Duncan and Blackwall spoke to the guards about where they had taken their comrade and were informed he’d been taken to the local surgeon after their conversation about how to treat a lady. Neither Duncan nor Blackwall asked how that conversation had gone, especially since he’d been taken to the local healer. Bronwynn had not asked about the man that morning, but they wanted to be sure he would not be going with them any further. Once they reached the building with the surgeon, they could see the man wouldn’t be traveling anywhere for some time.

“What happened to him?” the surgeon asked. His curiosity had been stoked higher when the Wardens had come to check on him.

“He attempted to rape our sister,” Duncan told the man; whose eyes widened in shock then narrowed in anger. “The other guards traveling with us objected,” Duncan then said.

“Good,” the man replied before the Wardens left. They split up to gather the supplies they would need for the next legs of their now separate journeys. It was late afternoon before either of them realized that Bronwynn was not in town. Blackwall was the first to become concerned, but he didn’t want the Templars to become suspicious. He asked several people who may have seen a lone woman; he figured out she had headed east, out of town. He saw Duncan as he started out that way and let him know where he was going; before Duncan could say anything to stop him, he was off.

Blackwall found tracks that looked like Bronwynn’s and followed them; worrying the entire time. He fretted about the girl as he searched for her. She was capable of taking care of herself, true; but he wanted to be her protector. He knew he should stop letting himself think about her romantically, but couldn’t seem to stop himself. She hadn’t actually behaved in any manner that could be construed as an obvious invitation; yet he kept thinking she may not be averse to such an old man in her bed.

“Bronwynn, I’m not sure I get that technique!” he heard a contralto voice saying, just before he heard the ‘whoosh’ of fire ahead of them.

“Okay, so try just imagining the line you want, don’t use your staff,” he heard Bronwynn answer. He came into a clearing that had a small lake in it to see the red headed mage and a dark haired mage practicing. He watched for a while as Bronwynn helped the younger girl gain control of several different dangerous spells. He was impressed with her patience and her control. The younger girl was clearly talented, but nervous. Bronwynn praised every success, encouraged through every mistake; making minor adjustments to how she explained a technique.

An hour had passed before he knew it and the two women seemed to be so engrossed in what they were doing neither of them appeared to notice the men that were sneaking up on them. Blackwall thought about calling out to them when both women turned in the direction the men were coming from and swept out their hands.

Ice flew from their fingertips at the same time it encased the men. He was more than slightly impressed, although he did still rush to help the girls. Bronwynn had drawn her dagger and longsword and the other girl had pulled her staff into a defensive position.

“It’s me, Warden!” he called to keep her from attacking him, she nodded in acknowledgment and focused on the remaining attackers.

Bronwynn and Blackwall stepped to either side of Bethany, who was not only less skilled than they; she was only wearing a simple dress. The first of the bandits reached Bronwynn. She moved with a speed that impressed Blackwall; and when she slid into the fighter’s personal space to slice him with her longsword – gutting him even through his armor, he almost lost his head to the fighter coming after him.

Blackwall brought his sword up just in time to stop the other blade; the fighter had been swinging so hard his blade broke upon the edge of Blackwall’s great-sword. This caused the fighter to panic and he backpedaled, falling to the ground to be pierced by the point of Blackwall’s sword before he brought it up in an arc to take the hand off the two handed fighter spinning towards him.

Bethany put her recent training to good use by hitting the frozen bandits with a long line of fire, creating explosions that stunned the remaining bandits. Bronwynn and Blackwall took advantage of their inaction to cut them down. The two moved as if they had fought together for years, although they hadn’t actually even sparred together. Blackwall finished off the two bandits left near him and turned to help Bronwynn; only to catch his breath as she twisted under the final bandits claymore, lightning arcing from her dagger to meet the chain-mail he was wearing.

Bronwynn allowed her dagger to touch his armor before she finished her twist, the bandit was paralyzed. She used the momentum to bring up her longsword and pierce the neck of the man. His blood poured down her blade in a torrent before she withdrew it. The three looked around and relaxed as one when they saw only bodies and no more attackers.

“Go home, Bethany,” Bronwynn said to her cousin, whose face had gone very white. The young girl nodded and ran from the field. Blackwall stared hard at the bodies strewn around them; there were half a dozen that were obviously killed by magic while the other six were killed by weapons. How they were going to keep the Templars from this he wasn’t quite sure. She was a Warden, but they’d want to know why they were out here.

Fire suddenly burst up from the bodies. Blackwall took a step back from the sudden heat. He looked to the mage as she set the corpses to burn.

“What are you doing?” he asked her, her eyes were hard and determined when she looked up at him.

“The bodies could attract demons,” she said with such sarcasm he took a step back.

“The Templars,” he started to say when she shook her head and interrupted him.

“The Templars would simply try and find a way to detain us, and I really don’t want to deal with that,” Blackwall thought about that for a moment before nodding. It was more expedient.

“Understood,” he said. He saw her shoulders relax.

“Thank you, Blackwall,” she said with relief. “I know you prefer to follow procedure when you can,” she added. He started laughing. “What’s so funny?” she asked in confusion.

“I follow procedure only when it’s expedient to do so, Bronwynn,” he answered, still chuckling.

“I have watched Duncan and Alistair dance around the Templars and Chantry, the King’s men and Loghain’s men. Duncan does everything he can to follow their rules,” Bronwynn said, still confused. Blackwall shook his head.

“You know the history of Wardens in Fereldan, yes?” Blackwall asked. She thought for a moment.

“I know that there was an issue back in the Storm era with Warden Commander Sarah Dryden, but that was ages ago. Literally,” she said. Blackwall realized he was still holding his sword when the mage bent down to clean the blood off her weapons in the grass. He followed suit, saying.

“That is part of the problem, there is also the fact that Loghain despises Orlais; he chooses to believe the Wardens are an arm of the Orlesian army. He also hates the Wardens as he feels it is their fault Maric was lost at sea,” Bronwynn frowned.

“How?”

“He was going to be meeting Duncan in Wycome; personally I think Loghain has never gotten over the loss of his friend,” Blackwall offered.

“That may explain the arguments I overheard the last few weeks,” Bronwynn murmured. He saw her shiver slightly and stepped closer; close enough to touch, had he dared.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “Where is the bruise?” he blurted, then closed his eyes in embarrassment.

“I drank a healing potion,” she said distractedly. Something about Blackwall almost made her feel as safe as Cullen did; and while part of her wondered about that she was more concerned with how the bandits found them. She didn’t notice how the older man’s brown eyes lingered on her face where the bruise had been. “We should probably leave the area,” she said, as she doused the fires; the bodies had long since burned to ash. He nodded and grunted his agreement.

“Who was the young lady, Bethany?” he asked.

“My cousin,” she answered, with a hint of excitement in her voice that caused Blackwall to smile. “I met her brothers at Ostagar; and I met her last night. Her mother Leandra told me I have siblings,” she turned to Blackwall with wide eyes and a hopeful smile. “She says she’s going to tell my mother about me, and gave me her direction,” Bronwynn saw the pity in Blackwall’s eyes and stopped walking.

“Is it so bad of me to want to know my family?” she asked softly. He put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed gently, he missed the surprised intake of her breath.

“No, sister, it isn’t; but we Wardens are also your family, now,” he told her. She frowned for a moment.

“Sister, hunh?” she mumbled; he missed what she said because she had wrapped her arms around his middle and squeezed him back.

“You frightened me; however,” The older Warden said, stepping back to catch his breath.

“How?” she asked warily.

“You told no one where you were going,” he said and the girl started laughing. “And now I ask you what is so funny,” he said.

“I think I have proven that I am capable of protecting myself by now!” she said between giggles and the Warden had to laugh at himself.

“Yes, you have,” he conceded. “I’m just an old warrior who worries,” he groused in an attempt to make light of his overreaction. She shook her head in the negative and hooked her arm around his, leaning into him.

“I’m going to be honest here, Blackwall, you are old,” she said with such a perfectly straight face he knew she was teasing him.

“Minx,” he said with laughter. They walked like that for a while, until they could see the town in the distance and he stopped them. She turned her head up to look at him.

“What?” she asked him when she saw the speculative look in his eyes.

“I wanted to ask you something,” he hedged, she raised her eyebrows in expectation. He took a breath to ask the question, then hesitated.

“Yes?” she asked; he sighed and looked towards the town.

“It’s not really an important question, Bronwynn,” he said before disengaging his arm and striding quickly back to town. Bronwynn sighed softly and wondered what he had wanted to know then shrugged it off.

 

Bronwynn and Blackwall were arguing as they stepped off the ferry boat to Kinloch Hold a week later. Word had been spread rapidly that Bronwynn was back from the front and Cullen had managed, barely, to keep from running to her and hauling her to their quarters. Irving and Wynn and several younger mages surrounded the red haired Senior Enchanter and the dark haired man who was with her.

Cullen narrowed his eyes when he saw the ease with which she moved around the man. When she wrapped her fingers around the man’s bicep he felt something inside himself begin to burn. She hadn’t seen him yet, didn’t seem to be looking for him, either. He couldn’t make out the other man’s face; but he could tell the man was accustomed to touching his mage since he did so quite freely.

Cullen didn’t hear the low growl he emitted when the other man put his hand on the small of her back, he didn’t notice the others around him stepping back; all he saw was her not pulling away from anther’s touch. Cullen did an about face and headed back into the tower, his handsome face contorted into a fearsome grimace of anger. He found his way to their quarters and waited; she’d have to come to him.

Cullen swallowed when he saw his expression in the mirror above her vanity. Even after two months he could still smell her in these rooms. Cullen had been forced to move to the dorm after three weeks because the scent tormented him. Smelling her scent now; Cullen felt himself breaking in two. She had let another man touch her; had let another man … Cullen forced himself to block the thought. He would have to accept that his worst fear had come to pass; she had found another and he knew, despite how he felt; that he had to let her go.

 

Bronwynn had thought she’d never get away from Irving and Blackwall and the others. She hadn’t been able to see if Cullen were waiting to see her so she rushed to their quarters. The door was unlocked and she rushed in.

He stood there in his Templar armor and she could see relief in his eyes for one brief moment; then his face became a stone mask. She found her key and locked the door, the familiar magic snapping into place and she almost sagged in relief. Instead she turned to her love and threw herself into his arms. He caught her but set her away from him immediately. Her heart began to hammer in her chest.

“Cullen, what’s wrong?” she asked nervously. She searched his face; finding the stony expression far more frightening than any of the Darkspawn ogres she had faced.

“Why, are you angry with me?” she tried to take a deep breath and couldn’t. “What did I do?” she asked, desperately fighting to make sure her voice didn’t sound whiny. She didn’t see him flinch; she didn’t see the tears in his own eyes through the haze in her own or hear the pain in his voice through the roaring of her blood through her ears.

“Nothing,” he said, and like her he made sure his voice was even, he kept his expression as blank as he could; even though seeing the tears in her eyes was killing him. He fought with; and lost, his desire to know the name of the man who had replaced him in her bed. “Who is he?” Cullen demanded and for a brief moment he thought she was going to lie to him. Part of him would have liked her to; he wanted to believe she was still his.

“If you mean the Warden I am with, his name is Blackwall. He’s taking me to Weisshaupt,” she said, she lost her smile completely and her body began to shake with her growing fear.

“Why are you going to Weisshaupt?” he asked, and although his face remained stone, his voice had become silky soft. He had a feeling she had broken her other promise to him as well. Bronwynn stepped back, the smile on her face falling, green eyes filling with tears. Her heart felt as if it were going to skip out of her chest.

“I’m,” she swallowed to regain control of her voice as it cracked with her growing fear. “I’m going to try and convince the First Warden and the other commanders that my way of curing the blight is a good thing for the Wardens,” she reached out her left hand to touch Cullen and he stepped back. She jerked as if he had punched her in the chest and pulled her hand into her chest.

“You did the Joining?” he asked her; his voice rising slightly. “You promised me you wouldn’t,” he snapped at her; and she heard a threat in his voice; although he felt betrayal.

“NO!” she shouted, taking a step back towards him. “I did not! I told you two months ago I didn’t have any reason to die; and until this moment I didn’t!” She closed her eyes and bowed her head, breathing heavily as she tried to regain control of her emotions. She didn’t see his blue eyes close and his head jerk as if she had slapped him.

“I’m happy for you,” he said bleakly. “Someone actually cared about your research and it’s ramifications,” but Bronwynn couldn’t believe it, he sounded as if he were anything but happy for her.

“You are not happy for me,” she said. He narrowed his eyes, and his face flushed red with his anger.

“You’re right. I’m not, how can I be? I had hoped you would have the decency not to flaunt a new lover in front of me,” he snapped, although he didn’t raise his voice or change his expression.

“What new lover?” she asked. “You think I’m sleeping with Blackwall?” she asked incredulously. When he simply looked at her as if she were scum she demanded. “On what basis?” she shouted, her own anger rising to the fore.

“I have eyes, Senior Enchanter Bronwynn; I can see quite clearly,” he threw out an arm, gesturing towards the docks; not realizing she was still within arm’s reach. His gauntleted fingers brushed her cheek, leaving a bloody trail where they struck. She pulled back; and she looked into his blue eyes as she did. She saw his eyes widen when he felt her skin, saw his dismay when he saw her blood; yet his voice held no emotion other than anger.

He had pulled his hand back, he hadn’t meant to hit her. “He touches you as if he has the right,” Cullen whispered furiously as he jerkily removed his gauntlets. He threw them across the room, her blood on them; he’d need new gauntlets now; he couldn’t wear them with her blood on them.

“What does that mean?” Bronwynn asked, her right hand was covering her cheek where he had scratched her. He could see, now that he was calming down; that she was retreating from him.

“He put his hands on you and you didn’t pull away,” Cullen said; still softly. Thinking about it made him angry again, but he was determined he wasn’t going to do more physical harm to her. Her confusion was clear, but he couldn’t bring himself to believe she didn’t understand.

“Why did you come back?” he asked her after the silence had drawn out uncomfortably.

Bronwynn opened her mouth to say ‘you’; but no sound emerged. She tried again to speak, to tell him but the look in his eyes broke her confidence. She swallowed once more; then she bit her lower lip and lifted her chin.

“I wanted to see you. I missed you,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster. “I thought,” she swallowed against the lump in her throat, wishing her heart would start beating normally. “I thought you’d missed me too.” Her breath caught in her throat again, her tears threatened to spill over and she mentally begged the compassion spirit to help her.

“Well I guess it doesn’t matter what I thought,” she whispered, swallowing the sob that was threatening.

“No, it doesn’t,” Cullen said, his voice once more stony; matching his expression again. “As you obviously didn’t truly miss me,” He strode past her and reached for the lock on the door. “We’re done.” He didn’t look at the woman he loved for fear he’d relent. He couldn’t actually be happy for her; he couldn’t let her go thinking she had his blessing. He wanted her to be happy, but he wanted her to be happy with him. His throat ached to say he loved her; but she deserved the freedom being with the Wardens could give her that he couldn’t give her himself. He relocked the door behind himself out of habit; if he hadn’t he would have heard her heart break.

Cullen stormed through the tower down to the practice field where he found a group of Templars practicing. He stepped onto the field and issued a general challenge to his brothers in arms. At first they were eager to take him on, he being the most skilled of the order at the Calenhad. He ended the first three bouts in five moves and that set the rest on edge and made them wary.

Cullen stood at the ready, waiting for the next opponent. He was furious and was seeing only a dark haired man, even though he had no face to place with the coloring. Two more Templars came at him, this time together. They held their shields at the ready and moved to flank him; thinking he couldn’t defend against them both. They rushed from in from his sides, thinking he’d have to choose one or the other to defend against. Cullen waited until they were within swinging distance then he took one large step back. The two men were moving too fast, too committed to their course to change and crashed hard into one another. Cullen took advantage of their stunned state to give them both ‘killing’ blows by tagging one under the arm, in the pit where his armor didn’t protect. The second he bashed with his shield; knocking him to his knees when he tagged him on the back of the neck, indicating a beheading. He hadn’t even broken a sweat.

The other Templars all stood in a circle around him now, and all were wary. They could see he was angry, and although that should have made him more reckless it seemed to focus him and make him far more deadly.

“Any other takers?” Cullen snarled; his face a mask of rage at this point. None of the other Templars stepped forward. Cullen made a sound of disgust and began to sheath his sword when a man in the heavy armor of a Grey Warden stepped into the center of the field. Cullen couldn’t see his face; the man’s helmet showed only brown eyes and a black beard. Cullen took in deep breath and narrowed his own blue eyes at the Warden.

Cullen walked over to one of the Templars and took the man’s helmet before stalking to the Warden. He put the helmet on his head; but not before Blackwall could see the satisfied smile on his handsome face.

“You,” Cullen sneered softly at the older warrior. “You stole her,” he sounded as if he had swallowed shards of glass before swallowing gravel right after. Blackwall opened his mouth to ask what he was talking about when the younger man spoke again.

“You think you’re good enough for my mage; prove you can protect her,” Cullen used his shield to bash the Warden in the chest, knocking him down with the suddenness of the attack. Blackwall managed to get his sword up and left across his body to block the Templar’s second strike. It wasn’t a good block since he only had the sword in one hand. He raised his right foot and planted it hard on his opponent's left knee and shoved; knocking the younger man back. He quickly rolled to his left and up to his knees; he heard the clank of metal and planted his great-sword in the ground in front of him. Using the leverage he shoved himself backward when he saw the Templar’s shadow in front of him; there was a great crash of metal and both men were now on the ground. Cullen had lost his breath when the slightly larger man landed on him, giving Blackwall a chance to get up.

The Warden didn’t know who the Templar was talking about, although he could take an educated guess. Blackwall pulled his sword from the ground and turned to face the younger man. They were close enough he wouldn’t have to raise his voice to speak, and for some reason he really didn’t want anyone else to hear. He waited for the Templar to stand before he raised his weapon to the ready.

“What mage is yours?” Blackwall asked, keeping his voice even and devoid of the curiosity that was eating at him. The man barked bitter laughter.

“You have spent time in more than one mages bed, Warden?” Cullen sneered, stepping forward to feint with his sword, drawing the Warden’s sword further to the right; only to lash out with the edge of his shield to take out his replacement’s left arm. Warden Blackwall slid out of the way and swung his sword back to the left, catching him under his right arm. Blackwall had turned the blade so the flat of it is what hit the younger knight; and still the crack of a bone breaking could be heard clearly under the clang of metal on metal. Blackwall was impressed that the younger man simply took a deep breath; bringing his sword into a short jab which Blackwall was able to quickly slap away.

The two men stepped back from one another while they both caught their breath. Glacier blue eyes met chocolate brown; and there was an animosity in the blue that stunned the Warden.

“I haven’t spent any time in any mages beds, Templar; no matter how much I may wish to be sharing her bed,” Blackwall had no idea why he taunted the Templar with that last statement; but he was rewarded with a growl of rage that shook even his armor with it’s depth.

Cullen saw red around the edges of his vision when the Warden stated he wanted her; wanted his mage.

“You want me to believe you haven’t,” the young man swallowed his bile at the thought he was about to express. “You haven’t fucked her?” Blackwall found his own ire rising at that question.

“If you are speaking of the red head I’m thinking of,” he snarled before stepping forward to feint with a jab at the Templar’s injured side then spinning backward to land a blow hard on the man’s shield. Cullen caught the blow at a downward angle and deflected the blow without taking injury. “One doesn’t fuck a woman like her,” Blackwall spat as he kicked the Templar in the stomach.

Cullen grunted as he caught himself before he fell. He brought up his shield again to catch and deflect a second roundhouse swing from the two handed weapon. He slid his shield down the weapon to catch the Warden’s hands, then he swung his sword; landing a solid strike to the other man’s right hip.

“No, one doesn’t,” Cullen grunted when Blackwall threw him back. They closed again; this time their swords meeting with a fierceness that caused sparks to fly off the edges. “You can’t tell me you care for her,” Cullen spat with vehemence; twisting against the other warrior’s sword and slicing a thin line along his jawline. The Warden cursed at the sting and took a backhanded swipe with the pommel of his blade; knocking the Templar to the ground.

Warden Blackwall didn’t give the young man a chance to rise this time; he saw the injured side was to him and he landed a solid kick to the broken rib, denting the armor completely. Cullen took the blow with a grunt and twisted, grabbing the man’s foot and rolling onto his legs. Blackwall relaxed into the fall and let the younger man roll over his legs before slamming the pommel of his sword against his helmeted head once more; stunning the Templar again.

“I guess you don’t care for her as much as she cares for you, idiot,” the Warden snarled with contempt. “She didn’t tell me why she wanted to come back to the Circle; but she insisted,” Cullen managed to get his shield up to block the downward swing and tried to get another of his own strikes in. Blackwall stomped on the Templar’s sword arm, the armor was thinner there and everyone watching heard the snap of bone as the arm broke.

Cullen once more impressed the Warden when he used his shield to lever himself up far more quickly than the Warden would have thought possible. Blackwall use a backhand swing to try and catch the Templar on the injured arm, only to have it caught by the shield; the Templar then leaned into his shield and pushed forward, knocking the older man back. He took the reprieve to switch his shield to his broken arm; tightening the buckle painfully. He scooped up his sword in his left hand and faced the Warden once more.

“You think me a blind man, Warden?” Cullen spat.

“Aye, you must be,” Blackwall spat back at the younger man. “Tis you she wants.”

Cullen’s breath was coming hard and fast, as was Blackwall’s. They took this chance to rest; although Blackwall could see the calculation in the young man’s eyes. He had to end this, quickly; before the man got himself killed.

“If you’re giving her up, boy, I’ll gladly take her,” the older man put a leer in his voice; it sent the younger man into a rage. This time he was unable to control his reaction and blindly attacked; Blackwall met his first swing with his sword, punched the shield to knock the broken arm and when the man staggered back he landed a solid blow to his helmeted head with the pommel of his sword once more; knocking the younger man out.

Blackwall removed his helmet, shaking his head at the young man’s behavior.

“Get him to the healers,” he ordered the Templars who had been watching. Several of them nodded and picked their Lieutenant up by shoulders and knees to take him to the healers. Knight-Captain Hadley stepped forward to congratulate him on the win.

“Thank you, Ser,” Blackwall said simply. “Where would I find Senior Enchanter Bronwynn?” he asked. Hadley cleared his throat and looked around the practice field before answering.

“She would likely be in her quarters, Ser Warden; allow me to show you,” Blackwall nodded and followed the young man. When he knocked on a door on the third floor in an almost barren wing, Blackwall frowned in confusion.

“She didn’t sleep with the other mages?” he asked. Hadley shook his head and left before Blackwall could ask anything else. There was the sound of a lock disengaging and the door swung open. Bronwynn stood there staring at the senior Warden for a brief moment before inviting him in. Blackwall was shocked at what he saw of his young friend; she looked as if she had been fighting the hounds of the abyss and lost.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

2 Weeks Later at the Circle Tower

Cullen stood with the other Templars over the latest Harrowing; yet another mage that Uldred swore was ready and would pass. Cullen flexed his fingers on the hilt of his sword waiting for the sign this mage had succumbed to the Demon the First Enchanter had summoned to the fade.

His eyes were gritty, red and swollen from lack of sleep; he had lost weight since he was only eating one meal a day. Two weeks since Bronwynn and the Warden had come and gone; two weeks since he had lost her.

‘ _Broke her, Ser Knight, don’t delude yourself. You saw the potion she made_ ,’ he thought to himself.

His sword flashed in the firelight followed by a dark red liquid as soon as the mage’s features had begun to shift. He struck without feeling; not even remorse. He knew he’d feel something later; but right now he didn’t.

The mage died quickly. Cullen allowed himself a moment of envy for the mage’s release from his current prison. Just a brief moment, there were still two other rituals he was to participate in and he couldn’t afford to think too hard, nor to feel.

Had he trusted any of the mages in the Circle he’d have had them make him the same potion Bronwynn had made for herself; but it was far too deadly to entrust to someone he wasn’t sure of.

‘ _You wouldn’t need it if you hadn’t_ -’ he broke off the thought. It was done; he’d as good as killed her. On the off chance she hadn’t overdosed on it, she would assuredly turn to the damned Warden. If they hadn’t been lovers before, they surely were now. The Knight-Commander and the First Enchanter dismissed the Circle of mages and the Circle of Templars; Cullen made his way downstairs to another one of the ritual rooms to take his place in the protective circle.

Four more hours of the infernal night passed before he made his way to the next ritual. When he collapsed in the corridor outside the barracks after another four hours; his Knight-Captain had two of the younger Templars take him to the quarters he used to share with Bronwynn. Had Hadley known what was waiting in the room for the Knight-Lieutenant he would have simply sent him to the healers for a sleeping draught.

“He needs sleep,” Knight-Lieutenant Dean said as he and the other Templar put him in one of the beds. The other nodded his agreement as they left the room.

Cullen’s sleep was restless and his dreams were a confused nightmare of scenery.

_**He stands in an elegant foyer, crystal and marble surround him. He hears the echo of footsteps coming from in front of him and he raises his head to see who it is. He feels his heart begin to pound as his mage comes from out of the darkness. Her ruby lips part in a smile of welcome; she reaches for his hands as she gets close enough and he sighs in relief. ‘She’s forgiven me’ he thinks when her mouth meets his._

_“I’m so sorry,” he says anyway, wanting her to know for certain he hadn’t meant to hurt her. “I’m so very sorry,” he says again. She kisses him more deeply._

_“Hush, ma vhenan; I know you didn’t mean it,” she says as she wraps her arms around his shoulders to pull him closer. “I said I love you, that hasn’t changed,” she pressed her body next to his; he realized they were in their room at the Circle Tower now and they had been stripped of their clothing._

_Cullen could smell her arousal; could feel the pebbles her nipples had become; could feel the heat from her body. His body responded in kind; his own nipples hardening, his body becoming feverish, his penis hardening into steel. Cullen caressed her body with his calloused hands; her sighs of pleasure healing the bruises to his ego._

_He lay her on the bed, using his hands to to memorize the shape and feel of her; following his hands with his mouth and tongue to memorize the taste and texture of her. He groaned as she came on his tongue when he reached her pussy; he drank in her scream of joy as he lapped her juices. She begged him to take her; to fuck her - but she was not a woman meant for fucking. He took his time between her legs to bring her to another orgasm; flicking her clit with his tongue while he worked his index finger inside her passage, pressing against the bundle of nerves just inside her opening._

_When she arched her back; screaming his name and pulling his hair he gave in to her demand - albeit very slowly as he tasted his way up her body; stopping at her breasts to worship each one until she was sobbing and begging for more. Cullen reached down and spread her legs as wide as they would go before driving into her with one long stroke; as she had been the first time he’d loved her she was tight and wet and she took every inch of him; almost greedily._

_Her third orgasm struck when he was fully seated inside her; her entire body stiffened with the strength of it. He put his forehead against hers as she came undone once more, gritting his teeth to maintain his control. It had been so long since he’d had her beneath him; since he’d felt her pussy milking him like it was now; since he’d heard her scream his name in pleasure like she was now; that he wasn’t sure if he could keep from coming and ending this too soon._

_“Please, Cullen, fill me,” she moaned into his ear; squeezing his dick once again; he bit down on her shoulder as he growled deeply enough to vibrate her chest as he orgasmed.**_

 

_**Once again, Cullen found himself alone, this time sitting in the middle of what used to be a lush garden, but was now desolate and barren. He looked around at the scenery and wondered how it could be so warm when the place looked so dead._

“ _Cullen!” he heard his love calling his name; he turned towards her voice and wondered, briefly wondering at the brief lack of animation in the sound. She ran toward him and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his. He dragged her to the ground to make love to her again. He heard a hitch in her voice over the next several hours as he consumed her; a sound that was slightly off. It was always short lived so he ignored it.**_

 

_**Cullen turned in a circle, wondering how he was now in the Harrowing Chamber of the Circle Tower. He had been with his mage eight times; and each time he’d noticed that she was changing. He was getting angrier and angrier. He felt compelled to make love to her; he felt he had to touch her and couldn’t seem to stop himself._

_This time it was the middle of the night, he heard a dull, almost scuffling step coming up the stair. He turned and faced the sound; there she was, as beautiful as ever. Her vibrant red hair gleaming in the firelight; her ruby lips shining against the paleness of her ivory skin. There was a small vacant smile upon her lips and her usually lively emerald green eyes were unfocused._

_“Bron?” Cullen asked, his voice thick with a desire he truly didn’t feel. He rushed to her to take her in his arms, she didn’t resist him. Cullen could see a flash of recognition in her eyes, felt her softening against him and was grateful; although he also felt horror in his actions.**_

 

_**Cullen was steadily thrusting in and out of his lover; grunting with the effort. She lay still beneath him, making no sound. When he opened his glacier blue eyes to look into hers he threw himself off her; screaming in terror._

_She stared blankly up at the ceiling, no expression on her face. Her body was limp upon the mattress, chest barely moving with her breath._

“ _Bronwynn! Bronwynn!” Cullen shouted as he shook her shoulders. He began crying as he realized she wasn’t going to respond. Something called his name and he heard a thud as something landed next to him. He turned his head to see a book, opened to a potion._

‘ _She did this,’ he heard in a whisper,**_

 

Cullen woke suddenly; breathing hard. He looked around the room without seeing anything. He was so exhausted, he hadn’t had more than ten hours of sleep in the last two weeks. These dreams were the reason why; he needed the sleep but knew he wasn’t going to go back to sleep now.

As the sleep fog cleared his brain he realized he was in their quarters. He growled to himself; not sure how he ended up here. He wasn’t sleeping here on purpose.

Cullen stood up from the bed and shook his head to clear it more. His eyes roamed over the empty sofa and chairs in the small room. She had taken everything; all her books, all her herbs, all her clothes. There was nothing left of her in these quarters that had been remodeled just for them.

That was wrong, Cullen remembered suddenly. There was the book.

***********************************************************************************

Two weeks ago

Cullen had woken in the infirmary, Anders standing over him with a frown on his young face.

“You, Ser Knight, are an idiot,” The young mage said.

“What business is it of yours?” the Templar ground out as he carefully sat up.

“You know she loves you and you give her away?” Anders kept his voice low, but he was emphatic.

“You didn’t see,” Cullen started to say when Anders slashed his hand in front of him in a sharp sideways gesture,

“I was right there when they came in, there was nothing between them,” Anders helped the Templar to stand. “If you’re lucky, she’s still here,” the mage told him.

“And you know this how?”

“Because she used me to get away from the Warden, she wanted to get to you, idiot Templar!” Anders said. This had caused Cullen’s heart to stop beating for a brief second, then it doubled in speed. Then he remembered what the Warden had said. That he hadn’t been having sex with Bronwynn. He murmured his thanks to the mage and took off to their quarters. What he’d found had chilled him to the bone. All her things were gone; as if she’d never existed. He’d stood in the front room, before the cold fireplace for nearly an hour; willing himself to breathe.

When he’d gone into the room they had shared and seen all her clothes gone and the room actually clean he had sat on the bed in shock.

She’d left him.

What had he done?

Cullen rushed into the room she had used before they had become lovers; again the room was bare. No sign that his mage had ever occupied the room; only a lingering hint of her scent.

Cullen made his way to the sofa in front of the dead fireplace and once more willed himself to breathe. He replayed the scene in his head and realized he truly had forced her hand. He’d not even listened to her; had not wanted to hear her. She’d told him nothing had happened; she’d told him she had wanted him and he’d called her a liar.

He’d let her cry; worse he’d been the cause of her tears.

Cullen looked around the front room once again and saw the table she’d been standing next to was covered with a plethora of cuttings. He frowned at the sight. Bronwynn was always careful to waste nothing when she made her potions, she measured everything very carefully and wasted very little. When he got closer to the table he could see one of her notebooks lying open on the table. It was the green book; and his heart began pounding in his ears and now he was trying to force himself to breathe slowly and evenly.

This was her dangerous recipes book. The book she swore she would never use; he looked at the potion it was open to.

_The thought of using this particular potion actually makes me feel ill. The effect; if used correctly, would be beneficial for certain rituals; of course; but that would pre-suppose it would be used correctly. I believe that those who created the Rite of Tranquility thought it would only ever be used as a last resort and under extreme duress. So many people deny their fear, and deny what their fear leads them to do._

_As far as this goes; it can help control emotions for a short time. A short time only. Prolonged use can actually cause permanent mental damage. I also believe that an overdose can lead to a Tranquil like state. Not true Tranquility because the test animals showed a marked difference in response to stimuli. Meaning that where Tranquil mages actually do react to stimuli, even if it is in a subdued way, these animals did not. They were lethargic and would not even feed themselves. Many died from dehydration or starvation if not from their inability to move from where they defecated._

_Basically I can only think that this would be useful during the Harrowings to help mages control their fear; which would give them a greater edge to prove their ability to control their magic. Since the Harrowings aren’t actually about controlling one’s ability but about one’s ability to deny temptation than one’s ability to control… wrong venue.._

_THIS IS FOR USE UNDER EXTREME CIRCUMSTANCES ONLY. ONE SMALL FLASK IS ALL THAT IS NEEDED TO CONTROL EMOTIONAL RESPONSES. ANY MORE THAN THAT WILL LEAD TO DEATH._

Cullen shuddered as he read these words and took in the mess of herbs around. She had not only mixed the potion, she had made a mess of it. He swallowed and closed his eyes as the fear overtook him. His best hope was she had mixed enough to get her through the rest of the day, to allow her to pack her things and leave him.

The alternative was far too dangerous for him to think about. Yet his mind dove down that road; she could also have made enough to overdose on. Enough to end herself; to stop being.

Cullen had barely made it to the garderrobe before he had lost the contacts of his stomach.

*******************************************************************************************************************************

Current

Cullen stood before the table once more. He’d long since cleaned up the mess, he’d even put the book away in his belongings. Yet he stood here seeing the same sight. He had to find out if she had overdosed; he needed to know; but at the same time he was afraid he’d find out that the Warden had done what he’d said and ‘taken’ his mage to his bed. That thought alone tied Cullen up in knots.

He turned abruptly and left the room, tears burning his eyes and his chest feeling as if it were wrapped in a vice. He made his way to the healers ward and found Anders. The sandy-blond mage caught sight of the blond Templar and shook his head in pity. He hadn’t slept a full night since Bronwynn had left with the Warden.

“You passed out in front of the barracks again, Ser Templar, perhaps you should try sleeping normal hours,” Anders said a bit sarcastically. Cullen just frowned at him.

“Do you have something that would keep me from dreaming?” Cullen asked softly, causing Anders to widen his eyes in shock. This Templar never asked for assistance with anything.

“Yes, Ser Cullen, I do; but you will have to sleep a full night; none of this serving on every ritual,” the mage told him with a small amount of sympathy. He really did feel bad for the Templar as obviously the Templar was having a hard time dealing with his loss. When the Templar scowled at the mage the young man shrugged. “That is how it will have to work, Serra. If you don’t sleep the whole night through you’ll be more useless than normal,” The Templar balled his left hand into a fist, but didn’t punch the boy as he wanted to.

“How long do I have to wait for it?” Cullen asked sullenly instead.

“I’ll have it ready at sundown,” Anders said as he turned to finish the work he had been doing. Cullen stared sullenly at the mages back before turning away and heading to the Knight-Captain’s office.

He spent the remainder of the day in a daze, half asleep and fully exhausted. He was unsure how he made it through the day until sundown. Anders met him outside the barracks with the potion.

“Here, Ser Knight, it will keep you from dreaming for one night,” Anders cocked his head to the left and looked at the Templar. “Bronwynn said that any longer than that and it would be worse than taking lyrium; but I’ve made enough for you to last a week,” he held up a case with seven more bottles in it. “Be sparing with it, Ser Knight, Bronwynn would kill me if she thought I gave you something to make you Tranquil-like,” the mage said. Cullen shook his head.

“Did she give you any other recipes?” he asked suspiciously. The mage shook his head negatively.

“No, she said this one was dangerous enough to share,” Anders merely shrugged as he answered. “I recommend you find a quiet place, Ser Knight,” he finished before walking away. Cullen thought about his advice, the thoughts coming slowly due to his exhaustion. He decided the mage had been correct and moved to the rooms he had shared with his mage.

The potion did it’s work; for the first time in two weeks he slept, no dreams of his mage for good or ill. 


	14. Chapter 14

 

Chapter 14

Ostagar

Duncan had brought in several recruits to the Wardens, including Aedan Cousland, the survivor of Rendon Howe's attack on the Teyrnir of Highever. Although his brother was alive, he was currently in the field leading a scouting party.

Daveth and Jory arrived at the meeting site along with Alistair and Aedan. The convicted thief and the glory seeking warrior spoke about the dangers, the secrecy. Alistair and Aedan both tried to relax the men, but it appeared they weren't going to relax until the Joining was complete.

Alistair was hopeful that the potion Bronwynn and Ferres had come up with would actually work on those who had not been tainted or had not been blighted. He couldn't quite remember everything that had happened when Ferres had given him the modified formula, but he had awoken to several different girls fawning over him. It had done wonders for his ego; but he still thought about Bronwynn.

The Joining went off without a hitch; all three Recruits survived and both Duncan and Alistair breathed sighs of relief. The three Wardens had woken with minor headaches, but otherwise were fine. Duncan had Alistair, Daveth and Jory headed off to prepare for the coming battle while Duncan and Aedan went to the War Table with the king and Loghain. Aedan thought the king was a little too gung-ho about fighting alongside the Wardens and tended to agree with Loghain about the strategy; but knew to keep his opinions to himself.

Duncan passed on Cailan's instructions to Alistair about he and Aedan being the one's who should light the signal tower; he agreed with Alistair they should be on the front line with the other Wardens but Duncan stood firm. The two men hurried to the Tower, surprised to find themselves fighting Darkspawn when they crossed the bridge.

The tower was overrun, and the warrior and rogue led the small squad of fighters to the top as quickly as they could.

"We've got to light the signal fire!" Alistair had shouted as they reached the top floor to be confronted with a Darkspawn ogre.

' _How the hell did that thing get up here?_ ' Aedan asked himself as they attacked the blighted creature. They managed to kill the monster and get the fire lit, although it was past the time Loghain had wanted it lit. Two large fiery bundles flew towards the tower from Darkspawn catapults; the two Wardens were fighting to save the others when a giant Roc swooped in to grab them from the burning wreckage. They both passed out from their injuries.

Alistair had awoken before Aedan and the shock of finding out that not only had Loghain abandoned the battlefield; all the other Wardens in Ferelden were dead. He was taking this very hard; and neither Flemeth nor Morrigan were clear as to why. Aedan didn't take it much better; both men had felt a kinship with the Wardens they hadn't felt with others. Aedan put his hand on Alistair's shoulder in a silent commiseration.

"We have to do something; the Blight isn't going to end itself," Aedan remarked with some humor, though it was tinged with bitterness. Alistair nodded his head agreement.

"Do you not have the treaties?" Flemeth asked acerbically. The two men nodded as they thought about their options.

"We should get as many Wardens as we can," Alistair said suddenly, Aedan looked at him curiously.

"Hard to do when the rest of them are in Orlais," he responded. Alistair shook his head with frustration.

"Not all, Bronwynn and Blackwall were on their way to Val Royeaux; they were going to stop at the Calenhad Circle. We could probably catch them there," Alistair suggested.

"Two more Wardens would definitely help," Aedan agreed.

"It's settled then," Flemeth said before telling the Wardens that Morrigan would be going with them. Morrigan tried to argue; obviously feeling as if she were being punished by her mother, but she finally did as she was bid. There was no true explanation from Flemeth as to why Morrigan should actually accompany the Wardens.

A full week passes as the companions make their way north from the Korcari Wilds to Lothering. Aedan's Mabari hound; Draven, a solid black Mabari with white paint stripes, found them. Aedan was very happy to see his companion; although neither Alistair nor Morrigan were.

"We now have a dog and Alistair is still the dumbest one in the party," Morrigan did say once Aedan made it clear Draven was staying with them. Alistair simply said 'Hey!'.

Lothering was clearly suffering from the blight as there were refugee's camping in abandoned fields as well as in alleyways. The three could see Templars arranged around the small Chantry chapel, could hear vendors shouting their wares as well as hear small children crying for their parents.

"They are blaming the Wardens for the Kings death," Morrigan said softly to her companions when she overheard a couple of farmers gossiping. Aedan stopped Alistair from trying to defend their fallen comrades.

"It will do no good, Alistair, they will believe what they wish no matter what we say. We can only change their minds by actions," he said to his friend. Alistair was clearly frustrated but kept stayed silent. They meandered through the village in an effort to learn as much as they could about the current state of affairs. What they heard did not engender optimism for their cause.

"To the tavern," Aedan said quietly, feeling rather subdued after the several hours they had spent listening to the people in the town.

Danes Refuge was packed more full than either Alistair or Aedan had ever seen it. There was a group of musicians playing on the second floor and it was clear that there were more refugees packed into the place. There were a group of Loghain's men haranguing what appeared to be the tavern keeper. A young lady with short red hair stepped up to Alistair just as one of the soldiers turned around to face the new comers.

"Look here, Captain; we've got some Gray Wardens! I think the villagers were lying to us," one of the louts said.

"Maybe they did," the man said as he turned to face Aedan, Alistair, and Morrigan. "We can always take it up with them later." Aedan shook his head as he recognized the armor of the men.

"You're Loghain's men, aren't you?" the dark haired rogue asked with feigned patience.

"And you're Gray Wardens and you killed the King," the captain of the group said with glee. Before Aedan could form a response, Alistair began ranting. Aedan started to interject to diffuse the situation when a red haired musician stepped up and tried to calm the situation down herself. The soldiers weren't having any back talk from anyone and attacked.

The fight was short, the Wardens making quick work of the less disciplined fighters. When they surrendered Aedan let them go, with a warning for Loghain that the Wardens knew the truth and were coming for him. The red haired woman stepped forward and introduced herself.

"My name is Leliana, I'm a Lay Sister with the Chantry. I wish to help you fight the blight," she had an Orlesian accent, she carried a bow and Aedan wasn't sure he believed she was a Lay Sister.

"Why would you want to join us?" He asked her out of curiosity. "You want to become a Gray Warden?" she shook her head in the negative.

"I had a vision, the Maker wants me to help stop the blight," she told him and Aedan would have laughed but she was dead serious. She told him about her dream; and while Aedan didn't think a dream about a blighted rosebush blooming and then finding a bloom on a supposedly dead rosebush equaled a vision from the Maker, he wasn't going to argue with her since they needed all the help they could get.

The four of them ate a brief meal before heading back out to the town, as they were leaving the town they found a very large man in a cage; he didn't look Chasind, although he was about the same build as one. When asked he said he was Qunari; which boggled the minds of all four people since they had never seen a Qunari. He also admitted that he deserved to be in the cage as he had murdered an entire farming family. Aedan thought about what would happen to the man and even though he deserved punishment for the crime; he and Alistair did need as much help as possible. He made it a point to get the Chantry's Revered Mother to give him the key; advising that he would most likely die fighting the Darkspawn threat. This would be a better use of the man's life since he could take out Darkspawn before he died. The Revered Mother reluctantly agreed to give the Qunari into the Warden's custody.

The group now had a more balanced feel to it; and Aedan and Alastair were both reasonably pleased with the additions. As they made camp that night the two Wardens discussed their next moves. Aedan finally agreed to head to Lake Calenhad before going on to Redcliff.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Lake Calenhad - Two weeks later

 

The group had come across multiple incursions of Darkspawn on their way to the Circle; and while this didn’t actually surprise anyone the groups of soldiers they had to fight did. Loghain was actively trying to kill the last two Warden’s in Ferelden.

Aedan wondered if there was more to it, though. The men seemed a bit desperate.

The ferryman told the group that the Templars had taken over his ferry due to some ruckus at the tower. When they approached the young Templar standing guard it took a threat to get them across the lake.

Inside chaos reigned. There were about twenty Templar’s fighting demons or trying to seal off a large door into the main tower. The Knight-Commander was shouting orders to be heard above the clash of steel. The last of the demons died quickly, leaving a deafening silence in their wake. Greagoir was shaking his head when he saw the Templar and the group.

“I thought I told you no one, Carroll,” he groused at the younger Templar.

“They’re Grey Wardens, Knight-Commander,” he said on a whine. Greagoir then waved his hand and sighed.

“Alright, back to your post!” The Knight-Commander ordered before turning to look at Aedan who stood in the lead.

“Wardens always want more than can be given,” Greagoir said with a snarl.

“The blight hasn’t ended,” Aedan said with a patience he didn’t feel. “We need the mages; Templars too, if you can spare them,” he told the old warrior.

“Maker, but I’m getting too old for this,” Greagoir sighed in frustration. “I would tell you no, on principal,” Greagoir said to the young man. “But I would then be reminded of my duty. However,” now he smiled sadly. “Blood mages have taken over the Tower, I’ve sent to Denerim for The Right of Annulment,” he shrugged. “There are no mages to give to the Wardens now,” the old Templar sounded truly sad at this happenstance.

“Are there no survivors who aren’t blood mages?” Morrigan asked with vehemence.

“I cannot take the risk,” Greagoir replied. Morrigan made a disgusted sound.

“We are willing to do what we can to find survivors, Knight-Commander. I can’t let innocents die,” Alistair said before Aedan could; not that he would have disagreed with the mage. Only the Qunari seemed to disagree.

“Sten, after you’ve faced some of these Darkspawn, do you really think we couldn’t use the mages?” Alistair asked the warrior Qunari. Sten frowned as he thought about it.

“No, saarebas are not to be trusted without their arvaarad,” he replied after a moment.

“The what without their what?” Alistair asked in confusion.

“Mages cannot be trusted without their keepers,” Sten translated patiently. Alistair nodded his understanding of that.

“That is what the Templars are,” the young man responded.

“Apparently not,” Sten answered back. “As the baas-saarebas have brought evil into the world,” he retorted. Alistair opened his mouth but then closed it again when he coldn’t refute that obvious fact.

“We are going to need them,” Aedan said with a finality that ended the conversation. “We are also not going to allow innocent people to die out of fear, Knight-Commander,” the rogue said. The old warrior nodded, and ordered the door into the tower opened for them. After checking their equipment the group went in.

“I’m not going to open that door for anyone unless you have Irving with you, Warden. He’s the only one I’ll trust,” the Knight-Commander said as the door closed behind the party.

“Nice to know,” Alistair grumbled as the door thudded. The others began laughing at his disgruntlement.

 

Draven stopped before Aedan and Morrigan before they came into another room; growling softly. They could hear shouting and what sounded like lightning buzzing in the air. They drew weapons and entered cautiously. An older woman was leading two younger people in defeating a rage demon. The scream of the demon as it was dissipated was deafening and thankfully short lived. The older mage turned towards the group, the tip of her staff sparking menacingly.

“You’re not templars,” she observed. “How did you get through?” she asked suspiciously.

“Knight-Commander Greagoir let us through, to see if we can save anyone,” Aedan answered. Her brows rose in alarm.

“So he’s called for the Rite of Annulment, then,” she surmised, and there was an edge of bitterness to her voice that seemed to outweigh the anger. Aedan simply nodded his reply.

“We’re going to do what we can to end this nightmare, ma’am,” he said. She chuckled wryly at his politeness.

“I am Wynn, Warden. I remember you from Ostagar. I’ll help all I can if you let me,” she offered; although Aedan got the feeling it was more of a demand.

“I’ll welcome the help, lady mage; but are you sure you want to head further in? The youngsters here may need your protection,” he ventured. She was obviously a powerful mage; but he had a mage he actually trusted; at least as far as being able to do damage to the enemy went.

“I’m sure,” she said. Aedan simply shrugged and nodded. Wynn lowered the warding she had over the doorway and she and the others walked through. The seven of them made their way up the tower, batting demons and blood mages as they did. Any survivors they managed to find they sent back to the main entrance with the youngsters that Wynn had been protecting. They moved up fairly quickly, until they reached the fourth floor.

The fourth floor at first seemed to have been barely touched by the attack, then they found a Desire demon feeding off a Templar and a blood mage surrounded by Templars he had charmed. Only Morrigan seemed gleeful to be killing the Templars; although Sten seemed gleeful to be killing anything that moved.

They regrouped and rested for a short time before heading into the last room on the floor. Wynn seemed to be taking all the killing pretty hard. She also kept giving Morrigan suspicious looks. Aedan decided to make sure they stayed apart until he made it clear Morrigan wasn’t an enemy; at this time anyway.

As they entered the final room they found a demon standing over the body of a man in mage robes. The demon was clearly feeding from the body. It turned to face them, moving rather slowly as it did. Once it was fully facing them, Morrigan and Wynn both murmured ‘abomination’.

The creature introduced itself as Sloth and offered them their greatest desires, which even the dog seemed to deny. Before any of them could make a move the abomination seemed to shimmer; and everything faded to darkness for them.

Aedan had to find his way through the Sloth Demon’s realm; a hell all it’s own. Within he found his group under various circumstances.

Alistair was ‘living’ with his sister (not that Aedan knew he had a sister) and Aedan had to remind Alistair of the blight. When they were attacked by demons Aedan wasn’t the least bit surprised; he was surprised when Alistair disappeared after the fight.

Draven, the black mabari, was sound asleep until Aedan called it’s name. He seemed grateful to have been wakened; he gave a soft yelp when he also disappeared.

Aedan found Leliana rocking through a prayer, an older woman standing beside her while she prayed. Aedan was worried as he heard the archer reciting the chant almost frantically.

“Leliana,” he said to her. She jerked her head towards him; her red hair swaying with the motion. “We have to go,” he said, and when she frowned at him he became even more concerned.

“Who are you?” she asked in her Orlesian accent.

“Warden Aedan,” he answered slowly, hoping she would remember. He wasn’t sure how to handle the situation if she didn’t.

“I do not know you, how can I help you?” she asked politely.

“Your vision, Sister, about the blight. That is how you are helping me,” he reminded her. Her green eyes flashed in brief remembrance.

“Sister you cannot leave us now, we are almost through the dedication,” the Revered Mother standing over her said; with no little desperation.

“But I must follow my vision, Revered Mother,” the Lay Sister said.

“You have decided to promise yourself to the Maker, Sister Leliana,” The demon in disguise said this time; with a little more desperation. The young girls pixie features twisted into a frown.

“No, Revered Mother, I am called to fight the Darkspawn. To bring the Maker’s light to end the Blight,” the archer’s voice was earnest and insistent. The Revered Mother began to growl and morph as she started to berate the red haired woman. The desire demon that appeared attacked Aedan immediately. Thankfully Leliana assisted in the fight; making quick work of the creature. Her disappearing in a flash of light was only slightly startling at this point.

Aedan finds Morrigan standing in front of her shack in the Wilds. Her mother standing there with her, the two bickering with one another. When Aedan called her name as he walked up she turned to him in exasperation.

“There you are, Aedan!” Morrigan says a bit testily. “Can we please leave this place now?” she asked.

“Of course, Morrigan,” Aedan said with some wit.

“Good, because this demon is far too reasonable to be my mother,” she said; just as it attacked.The two of them made short work of the demon and it’s summoned creatures before Morrigan disappeared in a flash of light. By now he was expecting this, so he simply moved on.

Aedan stood in the “entrance” to the fade and spoke with the man standing there again as she took some time to rest up before he tried to find the rest of his group.

When the Warden moved on once more he found the Qunari Sten with his Ashaad; camping at what appeared to be Lake Calenhad. As Aedan moved through the camp he could hear the other Qunari soldiers talking about different things. Most of them had horns, although Sten did not. Aedan reached Sten and greeted him.

“Sten, this is a dream. We are in the fade.”

“I know this, but I will stay,” the Qunari commander said. Aedan sighed and shook his head.

“You do know the demon that put us here will feed off your life energy, yes?” Aedan asked; The Sten nodded and seemed unconcerned.

“Sten, you swore your life to me, swore you’d follow me to defeat the blight,” Aedan reminded the man. This seemed to stir the large warrior.

“Aye, I did. Let us go,” he replied. He didn’t seem to care one way or another, he wasn’t even surprised when his ‘men’ turned into demons and attacked them. Once more his teammate disappeared in a blinding flash of light; Aedan shook his head and moved on to find the newest party member, Enchanter Wynn.

He found her surrounded by dead bodies; the bodies of the mages she was helping protect when he first encountered her. He called her name and she ignored him for several minutes until he touched her shoulder. He could hear her mumbling apologies and recriminations; interspersed with self-berating.

“Wynn?” he said with some concern when he realized she was crying.

“I failed them,” she said to Aedan.

“No, you didn’t,” he said. “We are in the fade, they are alive and well,” he reminded her. She shook her head in denial, she repeated it was her fault they were dead. Aedan had to convince her she was in the dreaming. It was time he didn’t really want to spend with the issue, but he couldn’t leave the old woman to the demon. When she finally did believe him they had to fight the ‘bodies’ of the mages before she flashed out. Aedan made his way out of the area; and the party fought the demon together.

When they awoke the demon was gone and they were all relatively unscathed. Draven bounced over to his human and licked his hand in apology.

“No worries, friend, we all got sucked into that nightmare,” Aedan told the black mabari hound; who then barked happily.

The group made their way to the next room, only to be attacked by a drake and dragonlings.

 

***********************************************************************************

 

Cullen stood in the center of the sparring field wearing his leather armor facing his mage. Her red hair gleamed in the noon day sun; her own leathers creaked as she moved toward him. She laughed as she moved; a sound he’d never heard before. It wasn’t her laugh; it was twisted and painful. The sound grated on his ears and set his nerves afire.

“My love,” she whispered; and again the sound was wrong. It was her voice, but it wasn’t at the same time. Her eyes were not the right green; her lips were not the right shade of red. Her moves were off; Cullen narrowed his glacier blue eyes at the mage as she ran too long fingers along his cheek.

“You are not my mage,” he said with certainty.

“Of course I am, my love,” she said. He shook his head in denial. Her lips widened in a smile full of sharp teeth and wicked intent. Her fingers dug into his temple and he felt her trying to twist his thoughts, he knew then; without any doubt at all, this wasn’t his mage. His mage would never try to control his thoughts; this … creature … for lack of a better word - was not his mage. His certainty that his love would not do this sent the creature flying away from him, screeching in frustration.

“You stubborn fool!” the woman - no, demon - screamed at him. “How can you stand against me for so long! I can give you what you most desire!” it growled.

The fade creature shifted from the imperfect form of Bronwynn to it’s natural form. It chose the form of a woman: a heart shaped face with long dark hair, horns that rose up and then curved forward above sharply pointed ears; long slender arms that ended in long fingered hands with sharp talon-like nails. It’s torso was long with full, heavy, teardrop breasts with dark areolas and hard pouting nipples. The demon’s waist was slender, but not narrow; it’s hips flared from it’s waist to lead into full, muscled thighs before tapering into shapely calves and ankles. The creatures feet were long and narrow like it’s hands, ending in talon-like nails.

Around it’s neck were a group of gold chains that somehow formed a circled pentagon; from the bottom point of the star two more golden chains dangled along the outside of both breasts ending in small golden rings that pierced both hardened nipples. It’s vagina was exposed to the Templar’s view; a small tuft of deep black and curly hair atop the creatures labia.

As the demon changed it’s form whatever magic it had used to suppress his memory stopped and he remembered he’d been fighting this same demon for what seemed like days. It kept trying to make him think his Bronwynn was torturing him. He knew she would never do that; no matter how angry she had been with him.

“You cannot fool me, demon. I know my love too well; you can’t trick me into thinking she is doing these things,” Cullen could hear the exhaustion in his voice, the weariness from fighting. He refused to give in to the demon, however. Bronwynn may no longer be his, but she would always be his and he wouldn’t hurt her more than he already had. He would not die at the hands of blood mages or demons.

“Fine, oh brave fool. You believe in her so well,” the tone of it’s voice changed and once more Cullen found himself somewhere else. This time he knew what was happening, however. If only that would have helped him.

 

***********************************************************************************

Cullen woke shivering; his belly cramping from hunger pains, his throat closing from thirst. He crawled over to one of the cleaner dressers that had a pitcher of water on it. He did his best to drink only a small amount; he knew he had to make it last. The blood mages that followed Uldred were determined to kill Cullen; the last of the Templars alive on this floor. The thirty others who had been in the barracks room before the Harrowing chamber were dead. He’d had to watch as they were all tortured and died. Some ranting from madness before they took their own lives, others raving from the delusions the maleficarum and demons had planted in their minds, still others seeming to simply begin bleeding uncontrollably.

Cullen had watched it through his own torture sessions. Uldred himself had taken great pleasure in stripping the blond Templar down to his skin before using a spell to contort the man’s body unnaturally. Cullen had heard bones breaking, felt skin tearing and blood pooling beneath him.

“I’ll take from you what I can’t have from her yet,” the man had hissed seconds before spearing Cullen’s anus with his penis and riding the Templar like a pony. Had Cullen’s been able to, he would have fought; he would have killed the blood-mage. The twisted mage knew that, of course; so he kept the curse twisting the Templar’s body going while he took his pleasure.

When Uldred was sated, several other mages came to him; his body weak and mostly broken at the time kept him from stopping them. One of the female mages he had thought to be kind used a knife on his chest, drawing a thin line of blood from him.

“That bitch thought she was so much better than us because she had you, Templar,” he shuddered at the evil grin she gave him as she used her ill-gotten power to force his body to respond to her. She lowered her dripping pussy onto his forced erection grinding herself painfully against his broken and bruised pelvis. “So many wanted to fuck you both, and now I get to,” she cackled while she rode him. One of the other male mages turned the Templar’s head to the left and thrust his malformed penis into the beleaguered man’s mouth.

There were no more than fifteen maleficarum attacking the thirty Templars; but the attack had been a surprise and they had been exceedingly organized. At that time Cullen could hear nothing above the roaring of his breath and pounding of his heart in his ears but he could see the aftermath when all the abominations were sexually sated.

From what he had seen he was thankful he’d passed out. Several of the mages were morphing into abominations as they orgasmed into and onto the broken Templars. The female mage who had used him after Uldred had come back several hours later to use him again; this time she couldn’t control the demon that was riding her and she transformed into an abomination while she took her pleasure.

Cullen had begun screaming then.

The next time someone had come through the barracks room they had brought more mages. Uldred saw all the men and women of the faith lying broken and he’d laughed near manically. Suddenly Cullen could feel healing magic washing over him and fought with all he had not to scream again.

The Templars who had not died from the brutalization of their bodies were then given to the blood-mages and demons for their mind games: an attempt to break them; to get them to fall prey to the temptations the beasts offered.

Cullen collapsed, prone on the stone floor shuddering once more. The demons had given up on trying to make him think Bronwynn would beg for him when fucking someone else - he refused to entertain the thought of another between her legs giving her pleasure. Now he fought to remember it was false, he struggled to remain impassive - but it was getting harder.

He didn’t know he’d fallen asleep, didn’t know he was dreaming this time.

Bronwynn stood amid the group of mages, throwing lightning and fire to take them down; yet her magic wasn’t touching them. They managed to grab her and pull her down; ripping her clothes from her as they did. He began running to her, to stop them - but found he was tied to the pillars of the Harrowing chamber by thorny vines.

“NO!” he shouted, Uldred raised his head from between Bronwynn’s legs; blood dripping from his mouth. He became a Pride Demon before Cullen’s horrified eyes and began to fuck the screaming, terror filled mage. Cullen ripped his arms from the vines that held him; uncaring of the blood that flowed red down them. He swooped down and grabbed a discarded sword.

“Agree, little whore, agree to be mine, and the pain will stop,” he could hear the Pride demon speaking with Uldred’s voice. He couldn’t reach her, the stones were slick with spilled blood and he was unable to get purchase. He heard his love cry no and watched her beautiful red hair; now matted with blood and semen as the other mages took turns coming in her mouth as the demon plowed into her, shake as she denied the demon.

Her head tilted back, he could see her green eyes, filled with blood, staring at him; pleading with him. The pride demon opened it’s mouth and bit off her left breast before roaring in pleasure.

Her stomach swelled and he managed to move forward, his heart hammering in his chest with his terror. He thrust his sword into her chest just as her body began to split. The half formed body of the desire demon wriggled from his love’s now still form. He sobbed over her as he then realized he was dreaming again. He awoke with a scream echoing throughout the enclosed space. On the other side of the force shield Uldred had erected he could see a group of people.  


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

  


Cullen saw the seven or eight people and closed his eyes in prayer.

“Thank the Maker,” he whispered and opened his eyes to speak to the man in front; only to find the group had disappeared. His heart sank when the demon appeared once more, laughing with glee. Before he could react to that, another of the blood mages appeared and struck him with lightning. The fact that he had put his Templar armor back on once the blighted maleficar had left them alone helped mitigate the damage, but only just. His body froze and jerked alternately as the electricity danced through him. The blood mage laughed with glee before  heading out of the room. The demon loomed over him, it’s full lips split into a seductive grin.

“I will make it all better, Maker’s man, just ask,” it whispered in his mage’s voice. He shook his head in denial, he could not speak. “You will soon beg,” the demon whispered as it made his armor disappear. It’s talon like fingers traced lovingly down his sternum; a thin line of blood following behind it’s middle finger. Cullen opened his mouth on a silent scream; his blue eyes widening in pain and terror. The monster traced his rib cage around his torso, morphing into his mage’s body; using her voice to plead with him to ask her to stop – to let her heal him and make the pain go away forever. He managed a deep breath and spat in the demon's face; managing to pierce it’s chest with his knife as he did so.

“My Bronwynn,” he said hoarsely, “Would never hurt me,” the demon disappeared on it’s own scream of frustration. Cullen managed a dark laugh of his own; humorless and bitter. She would never hurt him, he knew that to be true – but he still wasn’t sure he hadn’t killed her spirit.

The demon laughed from the aether, sending shivers along the Templar’s nude body. He forced himself to crawl to where his armor was lying and to put it back on. Perhaps it didn’t actually protect him from the abominations or the demons; but it was better than lying nude and vulnerable to their tender ministrations.

He heard the door across the room open, Greagoir was striding through the portal.

“Lieutenant Cullen, why haven’t you reported for duty?” the Knight-Commander snapped at the beleaguered Templar. Cullen laughed mirthlessly as the Knight-Commander tried to reach out and touch the shield Uldred had placed around the Templars; using their own blood to erect it.

“As you can see, Knight-Commander,” he responded with sarcasm. “We have been corralled,” he waved his sword arm towards his dead companions. Cullen wasn’t sure how he himself wasn’t mad. Then again perhaps he had gone mad.

“Hasn’t Enchanter Bronwynn been up here to release you?” the older man asked querulously. Cullen frowned his confusion.

“Warden Bronwynn left a month ago for the Anderfels,” Cullen reminded his commanding officer, who frowned and shook his head.

“She wasn’t allowed to join the Wardens,” he sneered; confusing Cullen. “Why would I allow her to leave the Circle?” he asked and Cullen shook his head from side to side to try and clear his confusion.

“Ser, you were the one who ordered her to the front, _without_ me,” he allowed the bitterness out; he had suffered with her gone: suffered through thoughts of her leaving him, nightmares of himself raping the woman he loved after making her tranquil, and now he was suffering at the hands of the Maleficarum abominations and demons because _this_ man wouldn’t let him do the job he had handpicked him for.

Cullen blinked in shock when the Knight-Commander started accusing Bronwynn of being untrustworthy, and when he opened his eyes again the Knight-Commander was gone. Emptiness greeted the weary Templar. He slumped in on himself, he was losing this battle. Perhaps he deserved it but he could not let this demon or these blood-mages be his undoing. She had taught him how to combat the mind attacks. She had given him the tools to defend against the invasion of the spirit. He may have broken her, he may have failed her when he refused to hear her - he could not fail her in this. He would _not_ fail her in this. He would survive this and find her; he would tell her he was sorry and that he couldn’t live without her.

Then the mages came down from the Harrowing chamber and their fun began again.

* * *

Bronwynn bent over at the waist to stretch her sore muscles as she and Blackwall dismounted outside of Val Royeaux. They were both grimy and caked with dirt from the road and both were looking forward to getting a hot bath in the decadently dangerous capitol of Orlais.

They led their horses through the back lanes until they reached the overblown way station for the Wardens.

“I know it looks impressive, but it’s really just a kitchen, several bathing rooms and four large barracks,” Blackwall said, almost defensively. Bronwynn gave a small smile when she heard it. They had been traveling for a month and only in the last week had she begun to actually speak to him in more than monosyllables and grunts. She knew he had spent the month worried about her since she hadn’t actually spoken.

Blackwall _had_ berated her for wading into a scouting party of Darkspawn instead of attacking from a distance. “I am supposed to deliver you to Weisshaupt alive, Warden; not your corpse!” That had been two weeks ago and she had immediately stopped drinking the potion in the mornings. It had helped her make it through the worst of the nights and he was correct; she couldn’t make herself stop feeling forever.

Of course, had he known she was taking a potion to suppress her emotions he would most likely have been even more concerned. Even with the damned-able drink she had been unable to concentrate for those first two weeks, fighting had been her only release.

Bronwynn forced her thoughts to a different track. She had to move forward even if she couldn’t move on.

“I like the bathing room part, where are they?” she asked with a slight smile for him. He gave her an engaging grin in return.

“This way, Milady Warden,” he said. She smiled wider and laughed softly as he ushered her into their temporary lodging.

Bathed and dressed in clean clothes, Bronwynn was working on mending her armor when Blackwall entered the main hall. He was followed by several elves who were laden with covered platters. She drew her brows together as she watched them place the platters on one of the round tables in the hall.

“Come eat, Sister,” Blackwall said with gusto. He looked as good as Bronwynn felt now that he had bathed and was wearing clean clothes himself. Bronwynn had spent the better part of an hour in the tub allowing herself to think. She had come to a decision; although she wasn’t sure if her companion was actually going to be amenable to the idea. She put aside her mending and went to the table to eat.

They spent the next several hours talking and laughing. Bronwynn watched the worry in his eyes fade, watched as the stress in his body dissipated. As he relaxed, so did Bronwynn. She hadn’t realized how badly she had been worrying him.

“I owe you an apology, Blackwall,” she said suddenly.

“For what?” he asked, in an attempt to make light of her suddenly serious expression.

“I haven’t been behaving normally, and I am sorry I put you through that worry,” she said. He sighed heavily and reached for the mug of mead in front of him.

“Tell me why,” he said in a tone to match hers. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“My lover of  three years accused me of... “she couldn’t think of a non crude way to put it. “having sex with you,” she said, blushing slightly. Had she looked up at Blackwall instead of down at her own mug of mead she would have seen his eyes flash with longing.

“Was your lover a Templar with blond hair?” Blackwall asked with some humor. She heard the humor and lifted her eyes to his. The brown orbs were laughing and there were crinkles at the corner of his eyes.

“Yes,” she answered hesitantly. “Why?” she asked him suspiciously.

“Because the young man was in a mood to hurt someone the day we were there,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “He made some comments about me having stolen _her_ but I wasn’t real clear on who _her_  was exactly,” she gave him an even more suspicious look. “All right, yes, I had an idea,” the senior Warden admitted with humor.

“What happened?” Bronwynn asked him, almost wanting to laugh with him.

“He challenged me, little mage; I simply taught him a lesson,” the Warden said. Bronwynn chuckled at him.

“I happen to know he’s usually very good at keeping his temper in check,” Bronwynn said with a smile. Blackwall chuckled himself.

“I watched him take on several other Templars before I stepped in,” he admitted. “He was impressive; even in his rage,” Blackwall shrugged as he watched her expressive green eyes dance in delight. He wondered if she was enjoying his company and conversation or if she was happy discussing her lover.

“Until?” she said, drawing the word out to lead him into a better explanation.

“Until he saw me. I thought he was just having a bad day until he actually saw me,” she frowned at him and opened her mouth; he continued. “He accused me of stealing _his_ mage. You were the only mage I had been traveling with for any length of time so I had to assume he meant you,” she closed her eyes and shook her head.

“I told him there was nothing between us, he refused to hear it,” Bronwynn whispered. He nodded his understanding.

“The conversation was then interspersed with bouts of swordplay; he is very good I’ll give him that. If he hadn’t let his anger get the best of him he might have held me off longer,” Blackwall admitted. “He did, however, allow me to push him until he snapped,” Bronwynn’s mouth dropped open and her eyes widened in shock.

“You managed that?” Bronwynn asked. He nodded with a small smile.

“He was determined to believe that we were lovers, I told him we weren’t but if he was giving you up I’d certainly take you,” Bronwynn’s sharp intake of breath made him think he’d crossed a line seconds before she started giggling. He was amazed it wasn’t an annoying sound.

“Oh my goodness,” she said after a minute. “That must have made him see red!” He smiled at her laughter.

“He hurt you terribly,” he said, suddenly serious himself. She gave him a sad smile and nodded. “I’m sorry I had any part of that, however unintentional,” he leaned forward and took one of her small hands into his large one. His skin was dark due to his Rivani heritage, her’s was very creamy due to her being a Free Marcher as well as having grown up in the Circle.

“I haven’t even thought of blaming you,” Bronwynn said softly with a slight smile. He returned her smile.

“I’m glad, I would hate to have you angry with me; it would prevent me from doing this,” he leaned even further forward and covered her mouth with his own. He was gentle, and hesitant as he waited for her to reject him. Bronwynn breathed in his scent, taking in the feel of him before she responded.

Blackwall deepened the kiss slowly, gently, letting the passion he felt build within her. When she relaxed into the kiss he pulled her from her chair onto his lap; continuing to kiss her as if she were made of glass.

Bronwynn was confused for a moment, he was being gentle. Cullen hadn’t always been rough with her but there had always been an urgency to their lovemaking. Blackwall was taking his time, coaxing and not demanding. She sighed into his mouth when his right hand slid under her blouse to caress her stomach, his sword calloused fingers were hot on her skin. She shivered as his touch ignited her nerve endings.

He ended the kiss and put his forehead against hers, both of them breathing heavily.

“Bronwynn, please say you want me to make love to you,” his voice was rough, although his hands were gentle. She leaned back to look into his eyes; which were normally a light brown, were now a deep, dark, chocolate brown. She could feel his hands shaking against her sides.

“I do,” she whispered, her own voice hoarse with desire. He picked her up and carried her to one of the rooms as the clock struck nine.

* * *

Warden Gordon Blackwall took his time stripping Warden Bronwynn Amell’s clothing from her. He caressed every inch of her skin with hands and tongue as he revealed it. Bronwynn tried to move his hands to where she wanted them as he bared her body; however he simply ignored her efforts. Her soft whimpers and gasps as he found areas of her body she hadn’t even known were sensitive encouraged him to keep the pace as it was.

Gordon laid her down on the double bed closest to the fire when he had removed all her clothing. He stared at her long enough for her breathing to even out and her green eyes to open. She looked up at him in confusion.

“Umm, is there something wrong?” she asked, uncertainty lacing her voice and she began to reach for the quilt to cover herself. He shook his head and leaned over the mage to kiss her ruby lips, she raised her head to meet his kiss, she met his tongue stroke for stroke, raising her arms to wind them around his neck and pull him to her.

“Nothing is wrong,” he answered as he pulled away. “I am just amazed at my luck,” he began removing his own clothes; when Bronwynn began to sit up to help him he told her to lie still.

“I want-” she started when he kissed her again; drinking in the sound of her moan.

“I will not be able to control myself if you touch me like I want you to,” he said against her lips. Her sharp intake of breath made him smile.

“Yes, Wynn,” he whispered against her throat after he had removed the rest of his clothes. “I want you to touch me,” she groaned as his hot breath feathered across her sensitive skin. “I just want to memorize your body this time,” his tongue traced her collarbone from her shoulder to her neck which made her shiver again.

“Gordon,” she moaned as he once again caressed and licked his way down her body. When he began tracing open mouth kisses before licking he could feel her body tense.

“I’m never going to cause you pain, sweet one,” he growled against her right hip when she tensed again. She gave a throaty laugh as she twisted under his hands.

“I’m not waiting for pain, Gordon” she gasped when he had moved his mouth to her pelvis, just above her vagina. She twisted her fingers into his hair and tried raising her hips, silently begging for what she wanted, where she wanted him to touch and lick. The senior Warden kept her hips pinned to the mattress as he traced another open mouth kiss across her pelvis to her other hip.

“Gordon!” she screamed in frustration, only to have him laugh against her left thigh. “Please!” she begged. He continued to lick and kiss his way down her left leg. “Maker! Aiden!” She was twisting under his hands and mouth, her body on fire with desire. He moved to her right leg and treated it to the same. As he reached her right hip again he could smell her arousal, he could feel the heat coming off her core.

“Andraste, Wynn, you are so ready,” he growled when he gave in to temptation and caressed her vagina; his fingers easily delving between her lips to caress her clit. His head swam from the scent of her and his dick swelled painfully when she lifted her hips and opened her legs to give him better access. When he dipped two fingers into her passage he was rewarded with her orgasm. Blackwall gritted his teeth against the desire to plunge into her to find his own relief. He had all night and he was going to take it.

He waited for Bronwynn to stop shuddering. When her breathing was almost even he moved back up her body and pressed his mouth to hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair and returned his kiss.

“You didn’t take your pleasure,” she whispered against his ear, sounding confused.

“Not yet, no,” he admitted. “I am not done pleasuring you,” he felt her breathing change and her body begin to shiver.

“I’m not sure I can take that,” she groaned when his mouth found her collarbone again. She felt him smile against her skin seconds before his soft laughter feathered against her flesh.

“You will,” he said with with a suggestive laugh that caused her to groan.

“Gordon, I thought you wanted to make love to me?” she said with a questioning tone.

“I am, Bronwynn,” he said roughly. She gasped and groaned when his mouth finally closed over her left nipple, arching her back to raise her breast closer to the heat of his mouth. “Sex doesn’t always have to be rushed,” he continued as he moved to her right breast.

“I-what?” she stuttered. She knew she should understand what he was talking about but her mind was steeped in desire, she couldn’t actually think past where his mouth was that second. Her body arched and twisted to meet his hands, and when his mouth followed his calloused fingers she groaned with anticipation and frustration. Her nails scored his arms as he slid further down her body, using his shoulders to spread her thighs farther apart before he allowed himself to taste her.

He felt her orgasm begin the with the second stroke of his tongue on her swollen clit. He continued to taste her, tracing her vagina with his tongue until she was screaming for more. Then; and only then, he plumbed her depths with his fingers once more – bringing her to climax yet again.

Once more he let her catch her breath; and when she actually dozed off he smiled in satisfaction. He wasn’t done showing her how much he liked her body by a long shot; but he could let her rest for a short while.

Blackwall rose from the bed and used a washcloth to clean himself up. He had managed to build up a great sweat and even after washing, he could feel the sweat begin to trickle down his back again. He looked down at his penis, he hadn’t been this hard for a woman in a very long time. It was a good thing no one else was at the way station, he might actually frighten someone. Aiden took the time while she was resting to get a plate of fruit and cheese as well as a pitcher of mead for the two of them. He also put a bucket of water next to the fire to warm it up for her.

When he sat back down at the foot of the bed she stirred; opening her green eyes. When she found him with her eyes she smiled.

“I want to return the favor,” she said huskily, to which he simply shook his head.

“I have been wanting to make love to you since I first watched you sparring with the Templars,” he said. Her brows drew together in a frown.

“I am quite capable of restraining myself,” he laughing answered her unspoken question. Bronwynn moved so she was on her knees in front of him; she leaned in to give him a soft kiss.

“I can certainly appreciate restraint, Warden,” she responded, her voice still rough with desire. “But if you don’t fill me with your penis I will do something very drastic to get what I want,” Her demand, spoken against his lips, sparked an urgency in him. He wasn’t concerned she’d actually hurt him; but that she wanted him inside her badly enough to claim it allowed him to loosen the reins of his control.

He took control of the kiss, pushing her back onto her back as he slid between her legs. She lifted her hips as his pelvis met hers. He slid deeply into her, both Wardens sighing in pleasure from the contact.

She met him thrust for thrust, a keening sound escaping her throat as she bit her lower lip. Aiden buried his head in the crook of her shoulder; gasping from the pleasure as they moved. He licked his tongue up her neck to lightly bite her earlobe; he could feel her body straining under his.

“Let go, Wynn,” he growled in her ear. She shook her head in denial and he covered her mouth with his own, thrusting his tongue into her mouth with the same rhythm he was thrusting into her. She moaned and arched up, lifting them both when she came. He shouted his own release seconds later.

They lay like that for several minutes, catching their breath. The clock in the main hall struck eleven. Bronwynn gave a startled laugh.

“We’ve only been in here for two hours?” she asked breathlessly as the clock finished striking.

“I told you, we have all night,” her green eyes widened in either shock or anticipation; Gordon wasn’t sure which but he didn’t give her a chance to express either. He captured her lips in a possessive kiss before he began all over again. 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own anything of DA; just reminding ya'll.

Chapter 17

Bronwynn woke slowly to the sound of a merchant hawking his wares outside the building. The fire had been built up again sometime in the night; she thought she remembered Blackwall doing it. Her body felt both more relaxed than it had in a very long time and more sore than she’d felt in a very long time. She stretched under the quilt and groaned as she felt her muscles protest the action. Her laughter echoed through the empty room as she realized she felt good.

Then a pair of blue eyes flashed in her mind and the good feeling fled. She didn’t feel guilty, exactly.   
‘ _Oh who am kidding?_ ’ she thought to herself. ‘ _I do feel guilty, for letting someone else touch me,_ ’ she threw the quilt off and rose angrily from the bed. ‘ _Why?_ ’ she asked herself. Then turned the thought towards the compassion spirit who was her companion.

 _Your heart still belongs to the Templar_ the spirit said. Bronwynn rolled her eyes and thought ‘ _well I_ knew _that!_ ’ at the entity. She heard it laugh softly. _Why would you think it had changed?_ it asked her. She took a deep breath and released it in a slow sigh as she began giving herself a quick wash from the basin.

‘ _Because he hurt me,_ ’ she thought. ‘ _He promised he’d keep my heart safe and then he not only threw it back at me; he trampled on it to break it into a million pieces as he walked away._ ’ She felt her anger rising again and she also felt her friend’s approval. She let herself feel the anger, since it thought that was good. ‘ _Why? Why would he do that to me? I hadn’t done what he accused me of!_ ’ she shouted in her thoughts. She dressed in her leathers and stood before the fire, shaking with her emotion. She didn’t expect an answer from either of her companions so was unsurprised when she didn’t get one.

Bronwynn thought about last night, it had felt very good. Blackwall had done wonderful things to her body with his hands and mouth; but even though she’d liked it - it hadn’t felt exactly right. His hands were the wrong size, and … well he was the wrong man. Bronwynn began braiding her hair to put it up as she continued to think. She had wanted to have sex with Blackwall; although he called it making love she couldn’t act as if she were in love with the older Warden. She wouldn’t insult him by lying to him.

Blackwall entered the barracks room just as she finished putting her hair up and interrupted her thoughts. She turned to face him and saw him smiling at her with intimate familiarity; she summoned a smile for him only to see his own falter. She took a breath to speak but he recovered before she could. The smile came back, but it was different; less lover like and far more friendly. She was relieved, and that made her feel badly. He must have read something in her face or body language because his smile changed again, his eyes became softer and he took her hands in his.

“Don’t,” he said gently. She scoffed and pulled her hands away.

“You don’t get to be nice, you don’t get to be understanding!” Bronwynn said angrily. “You should be accusing me of using you!” she had raised her voice by then and Blackwall merely laughed deprecatingly. She threw her hands in the air, bristling with anger.

“Wynn!” he said, grabbing her hands again while he laughed. Her green eyes blazed with frustration, anger and humiliation.

“Wynn, I meant what I said last night,” he pulled her closer to him to take her face in his hands.

“What part?” she asked, blushing. “I don’t remember a lot of the talking bits,” she admitted. His smile got wider as his ego expanded with her admission.

“The part where I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you sparring with the Templars,” he said before giving her a light kiss. Her eyes widened.

“You meant that?” she said surprised. He nodded, his beard tickling her chin with the movement.

“I did, but, “ he put a forefinger on her lips to stop her speaking. “I also know you love the Templar,” his own admission made her blush even deeper. “No, Wynn, don’t feel badly,” he said. She gave him a look of confusion at that statement.   
“I knew you were hurting, I made sure I gave you alcohol, although not enough to impair your judgment; I kissed you knowing you would probably be amenable,” he admitted. She laughed reluctantly. “So, no feeling as if you took advantage of me, or cheated me, or lied to me because I would have  kissed you until you said yes last night” She closed her eyes and laughed a little more easily.

“I can’t -” she stopped speaking when he kissed her softly once more and stepped away.

“Sister Warden, thank you for a wonderful night. Would I like it if you were to share my bed every night? If you were to care for me the way you care for your Templar? Yes,” he smiled sadly but bowed at the waist as he continued. “Did I give you a night's respite from the hurt?” He asked her. She nodded, able to smile fully. “Will you remember last night as fondly as I will?” he queried and again she nodded with that same smile.

“Then I am content,” he said. Bronwynn could see he really wasn’t, his eyes held a pain she now knew.

“Liar,” she whispered sadly. “You wanted more,” she said to him with enough heat to spark his ire.

“Very well, Bronwynn. Yes I hoped we’d have more than one night,” Blackwall stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. “I may not be able to give you the forever you deserve,” he covered her mouth with his and kissed her with the intensity of a starving man; with a possessiveness that took her breath away. “I _can_ make what time we have together worthwhile,” he said when he broke the kiss and let her go.

“But I will not demand what you do not want to give, Wynn” he said with heat. “I don’t _expect_ your heart, I don’t _expect_ your body; hell Wynn I don’t expect you to be my friend,” her eyes widened at the anger in his voice now. “Does that suit your need for honesty?” she nodded meekly; astounded by his vehemence. “I will happily take what you are _willing_ to give; in that I believe your Templar and I are the same,” he then held her face between his hands to kiss her once more. He let her feel his desire through the kiss, but gave no other persuasion. When her breaths were coming quick and shallow he broke the kiss and walked away.

“Damn,” she whispered, then laughed at herself. She felt guilty for not wanting to hurt and then felt guilty for taking advantage of what was freely offered. Then she offends the man; truly she needed help. Shaking her head she steadied herself and went into the main room. There were several runners waiting to be acknowledged by Blackwall. He was reading one missive, Bronwynn stepped forward and took the missives from the other runners; indicating they should grab food and take a moment to relax.

The first three were from Weisshaupt, demanding to know if they were to be called in to assist with the blight; the fourth one caused Bronwynn to cry out in shock. Everyone turned to look at her.

“Wynn?” Blackwall demanded, she raised troubled eyes to his.

“They were routed at Ostagar,” she said softly. “They’re all dead,” her voice broke as she said it. Blackwall took the message from her fingers and read what it said. He sat down heavily in the chair behind him.

“Duncan, Ferres, Alistair,” he whispered. Bronwynn shook her head and took a deep breath before sitting in a chair herself. The shock wasn’t fading. How could they be gone? She had seen the plans being made; if they had followed Loghain’s plan then they should have been able to … her mind froze with her heart.

“How?” she asked with a choked cry. One of the messengers stepped forward.

“Milord, Milady, Warden Riordan passed this verbal message as well,” the two Wardens focused their attention on the exhausted woman.

Bronwynn shook her head to clear it and opened the message that runner had given her.

‘ _Not all dead, at least one survivor. Suspect treachery, be wary of crossing rivers_ ’ Bronwynn looked up at the dark haired runner, she wore the insignia of the Wardens.

“Riordan's last message was ‘ _Not all in-laws will take your life but ambition and hate can rendon one blind_ ’ Bronwynn frowned at the wording; but Blackwall said ‘ah’, she turned to face him.

“He’s warning us that Loghain may have betrayed his king and he has Rendon Howe’s assistance. Bronwynn’s eyes widened in understanding and shock.

“He’d allow his daughter’s husband to die out of hate for Orlais?” she asked incredulously. Blackwall almost laughed at the question before he remembered that although she understood Circle politics, courtly intrigue was still beyond her.

“Not just for hate for Orlais, Sister,” he answered instead.

“He hated his son-in-law that much?” One of the runners asked. Blackwall shook his head.

“Not hate there, son. More like distrust. Loghain never could accept that Maric was gone; he didn’t believe that Cailan had what it took to lead,” Bronwynn thought about the things she had seen and heard before they had left the camp and realized that was closer to the truth than anything else.

“Then it’s possible he turned against Cailan as well as the Wardens in an effort to take the throne?” Bronwynn asked, although it was more of a statement. Blackwall nodded anyway. She sighed in regret but turned to the last two messages. She read the first of them and squealed in delight.

“What in the abyss!” Blackwall shouted when she threw herself at him in an exuberant hug.

“Alistair lives!” she shouted in joy, and Blackwall wondered aloud how.

“He says something about a witch of the wild and a wild witch,” she laughed to read his idioms, conjuring up the memory of his mischievous smile as she read the words. “He and Aedan Cousland were the only Wardens at Ostagar to survive. They are heading to the Circle, hoping to catch us before we leave,” she shook her head. “They missed us by two weeks,” she said, pointing out the date on the missive. While Blackwall re-read the letter she went to the last letter; also from Alistair. Blackwall looked up in time to catch her as she slipped, unconscious, from the chair.

  


************************************************************************************

  


Bronwynn opened her eyes slowly, hoping to avoid making the pounding in her head worse than it already was. She wondered briefly how much she had drank the night before. The fire was mostly banked, however so that helped. She cautiously looked around and found Blackwall in a chair by the bed; he looked deeply troubled, even in his sleep. What could put that strain around his eyes?

Then she remembered the letter from Alistair; and she stopped breathing, her heart beat seemed to slow and the world went gray around the edges.

“Damnit Warden, don’t do this again!” she heard Blackwall shouting as if from a long distance. She felt a sharp sting against her face before feeling her body being jerked.

“Bronwynn Amell, he wouldn’t want you to give up!” The older Warden shouted; he was screaming in her ear, although she thought he was far away. The words penetrated.

She took a shallow breath into air starved lungs; her heart beat sped up as she took more and deeper breaths. The gray receded from her vision and she blinked eyes suddenly flooded in tears. Bronwynn didn’t recognize the keening wail that came from her throat; she didn’t even know she was making a sound.

Cullen was dead.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

**Two weeks later, two days outside Redcliffe Village**

Aedan stared at Morrigan as she went through her evening ablutions; his body responding to the site of her graceful movements. He shook his head and forced himself to look away and concentrate on the conversation with Alistair and Wynne.  The ex-Templar was having trouble adjusting to the older Enchanter’s sense of humor; Aedan liked hearing her teasing his friend. The Warden needed someone to tease him out of his seriousness. Aedan laughed silently as he listened to the two of them. He and Wynne were probably the only two who realized just how seriously Alistair took his duties.

Aedan thought about the letter he seen Alistair writing the night after they had left the Circle Tower. So many Templars dead, so many mages; too. There had been a look of despair on the blond man’s face so out of place that Aedan thought perhaps he had known someone in the Circle besides the mysterious Bronwynn.

“Did you at least tell her that Cullen lived?” Wynne asked suddenly; apropos of nothing since they weren’t even discussing the tower at this time.

“What?” Alistair asked in confusion. “Tell who about who?” he asked as if he truly were clueless. Wynne shook her head with disdain.

“You will do her no favors letting her think her love is dead,” the older woman snapped.

“Since I didn’t even know, until just now, that her lover was named Cullen _as well_ _as_ being a Templar, how was I to tell her all the Templars inside the Tower _except_ her lover were dead?” Alistair asked the mage with his own disdain.

“You didn’t have to tell her the Templars were dead,” Wynne said with exasperation.

“I was giving a report, Wynne, yes I did,” he held up his hand before she could speak. “I have to report to the Wardens, Enchanter. Besides, you and I can’t be sure she’ll be the one to read the report in any case,” Aedan looked at Alistair in disbelief and interjected his thought.

“Of course, when she’s given an update on the blight the fact that it will be mentioned doesn’t matter?” Aedan asked and Alistair’s mouth opened only to close after a second.

“I’m an ass,” he admitted.

“No, well yes,” Wynne said with humor. “Just not an intentional ass.” Aedan laughed with the mage as the other Warden turned red.

“I will send her a letter myself, Warden Alistair, assuring her that the Templar yet lives, even if he thinks all mages are scum right now,” there was a bitterness in her voice that Aedan thought unwarranted. He could understand the Templar’s desire to kill the mages; they had been torturing him for two weeks.

“Is it so surprising, Enchanter? He suffered greatly at the hands of the blood-mages,” Aedan found himself saying. She seemed shocked that he would speak against her fellow mages.

“He claims to love a mage,” she started to say only to have Aedan interrupt her.

“I heard him say he’d have given in if not for her,” Aedan reminded her. She flushed, and it wasn’t becoming. “He has no reason to believe that the mages in the tower aren’t demonic abominations, Wynne. You shouldn’t hold it against him,” Aedan finished as he rose from the fireside.

“Since we’ve stopped discussing our next move, I’m going to patrol,” the young man said. He left the mage and Templar looking at one another in discomfort.

Aedan checked on Sten, who was having a growling match with Draven. Aedan walked away from that shaking his head in bemusement as he heard Sten say he was a worthy warrior. Leliana had joined Alistair and Wynne around the fire. All was peaceful around the camp; even the dwarven merchant who had taken to following them seemed at ease. The Tranquil mages who had been sent with them seemed to be settling fine as well. Aedan kept an eye out for trouble as he made his way over to Morrigan.

Their conversation was brief, although intense. He left her smiling; which was more than he’d managed the last two weeks. She hadn’t been happy about bringing the Circle mage along.

The next night found them nearing the southern end of Lake Calenhad and the town of Redcliffe outside Redcliffe Castle. The group had passed Connor fort several hours ago and were footsore from the long trek; they had made better time than they had thought they would, however and got to the village by noon the next day instead of the day after.

There was a man standing on the hill waiting for them, he seemed slightly overexcited to see them.

“You here to help with the undead?” he asked, his accent so thick even Alistair had a hard time understanding him. Aedan shook his head in confusion.

“We’re here to see the Arl,” he answered and the man sighed in regret.

“Well good luck wi’that!” he exclaimed. “For three nights now we been attacked by undead comin’ from the Castle,” the group looked at the man with confusion. “We won’t last the night, they all keep coming back,” he said.

“We’ll help if we can,” Aedan said wearily. He wondered why there seemed to be so many strange things happening.

As they moved through the village, doing what they could to get the militia ready for another attack they learned the Arl had been poisoned and right after that dead started attacking the village.

When the attack came the group managed to help the militia keep the village safe. The Arl’s brother; Bann Teagan, started to discuss a way to get into the keep when the Arl’s wife Isolde came running down the hill from the Castle.

Even Morrigan scoffed when the blond woman claimed that her son Connor was not responsible for sending the undead because he was possessed by a demon. She convinced Teagan to come up to the castle with her; leaving the group to sneak in. Aedan shook his head at the mess that was involved because of yet another mage. So many good people and it only took a few mages to cause everyone to hate the whole group.

Wynne was shocked to see a mage she knew being held in the dungeons.

“Jowan, what are you doing here?” she asked sharply.

“I was trying to help Lord Connor,” he said. When he then confessed he had poisoned the Arl at Loghain’s insistence everyone gasped in shock. This was more than just a way to get rid of Wardens.

“That explains him declaring himself Regent and stealing his daughter’s throne,” Alistair said with false cheer. Aedan nodded his agreement.

“Why did he get you to do it?” Wynne asked. Jowan turned a bright shade of red and took on a look of shame.

“He caught me trying to flee Fereldan. He told me if I gave the poison to Arl Eamon he’d make sure I had a place to go,” he sighed.

“I shouldn’t have believed him, but I was afraid,” he admitted. Wynne snorted in disgust.

“He’s a blood-mage,” she told the party. Aedan shook his head again in consternation.

“I’m leaving you here for the Arl,” the Warden said as they turned to continue into the castle proper.

They had to fight more undead the whole way, the few live people they managed to save were traumatized beyond redemption. When they did finally make it to the great hall it was to see Bann Teagan acting like a court jester; Isolde standing next to her son on a dais in front of the fireplace looking as if her world had come undone and the young lord clapping his hands and laughing with sheer delight.

When he caught site of the Wardens and their companions he grew angry and demanded to know why they had stopped him from killing the villagers and despite his mother’s pleading he refused to be swayed into ceasing his torments.

“It was a fair deal!” the young man shouted; his voice clearly being used to speak for the demon who had possessed him. When the boy ran from the room, the guards who had been frozen in place attacked; including Teagan. The party managed to simply knock the guards and Teagan out instead of killing them but were left facing an inconsolable Isolde.

“He made the deal willingly,” Wynne and Morrigan said in unison. The first time they had agreed on anything. Isolde began to shake as she began to beg.

“He’s just a little boy! He didn’t know what he was doing!” she shouted; Teagan had woken up at this point and looked at his sister-in-law with pity.

“He should have been sent to the Circle, Isolde,” he said. She cried out in denial.

“He’s my only son!” she said.

“And now he’s your only abomination,” Morrigan quipped, Aedan wasn’t sure how he kept a straight face.

“Morrigan,” he grumbled and she made a face at him but said no more. “What are our options?” he then asked the rest of the group.

“We could get the mages to perform a lyrium ritual to drive the demon from him,” Alistair said. Aedan thought about the time that would take and shook his head slightly.

“What about the mage in the dungeons?” Isolde asked with desperation. Aedan shrugged.

“Bring him up, let us ask him,” he said. While they waited they discussed travel times for the mages. Morrigan and Sten were more for killing the boy; Aedan was inclined to agree with them. When Jowan was brought to them he said he could do a blood-magic ritual, but it would require a life to fuel the spell. Aedan simply nixed the plan. He wasn’t going to allow anyone to die just to make the blood-mage feel as if he were helping fix the problem.

“It’s a two week journey back to the Circle, that leaves everyone here in danger since the demon will likely start again once we’re gone,” Aedan said in argument.

“Then I’ll go alone,” Alistair said with vehemence. “I don’t think we should just kill the boy,” the warden insisted. Sten and Morrigan gave no further opinion so Aedan agreed to let Alistair head back to the Circle.

In the meantime Wynne used her healing arts to see if she could cure the Arl, to no avail. Isolde; when she wasn’t hovering over her son, insisted the only cure were the Ashes of Andraste. After much discussion with Wynne and Morrigan as to what the poison could be since Jowan didn’t know himself they decided they’d look into other possibilities. The Arl’s wife had already enlisted the aid of Brother Genitive; a renowned scholar. The least they could do would be to check with him. Aedan knew they needed the Arl of Redcliffe at the Lands-meet; if only because they would need at least one ally against the Tarn of Gwaren. The Hero of Riverdale would have a lot of pull and they’d need all the help they could get.

The demon possessed Connor did try several times to take over the minds of the party. Between Wynne and Morrigan; however, the child was unable to do so.  The month was only bearable to Aedan only because he and Morrigan got to know each other better.

When Alistair and the remaining mages made it back to the Castle he was about ready to kill the mother on principle. The woman was always whining and one would think she was married to Bann Teagan with the way she constantly had to have his attention.

Irving talked Wynne into being the mage that went into the fade to confront the demon as neither trusted the apostate shape-shifter. It was a long two hours as they waited with trepidation for the older mage to come back to herself. Alistair seemed to be more on edge than the others, and when Aedan asked why all he would say was ‘mages’.

The silver haired woman opened haunted blue eyes. Alistair beat Irving to her side to help her sit up and give her a drink. The woman smiled her thanks at the younger man.

“It is done,” she said softly. “He is free,” everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Aedan focused his own brown orbs on the troublesome mother of the child.

“This wouldn’t have happened if he’d been taught properly,” the rogue said harshly. “Saying you found a mage to teach him is not good enough when you forced him to hide it,” to this even Morrigan agreed. “He’s going to have to go to the Circle, Milady. It’s the only way he’ll be safe,” When the woman tried to argue, her brother-in-law stepped in.

“Eamon would not want him to suffer, Isolde. You ask too much to be able to keep him. It’s clearly not safe for anyone,” Teagan said to her. Her face fell as she realized she would get no support in keeping her son before she fled the room. The Bann shook his head and turned to the First Enchanter.

“I would ask that we wait to see if we can get Eamon cured of this poison before you take the boy,” he said. “It was his father taking ill that caused this catastrophe to begin with; I’d rather not make things more difficult on anyone else,” Irving smiled with understanding.

“I will stay here with the boy for the time being, I can start teaching him better controls and help him with his fears,” the Bann nodded his thanks and gratitude.

“I’ll give you what supplies we can spare, Wardens. I’ll also begin calling in Eamon’s men to move to Denerim as soon as he is awake. Please don’t take too long to get back, and keep me updated on your progress,” the Wardens nodded before heading to their rooms to rest before heading out the next day. Alistair could be heard grumbling that he had only just gotten back; to which Wynne had replied with brat.

* * *

* * *

Aedan and Wynne were discussing the merits of elfroot vs spindleweed for healing potions when Leliana came jogging back from her scouting.

“We’ve got a merchant that looks like he’s lost up ahead, but otherwise we’re clear,” she told the man in charge. He smiled at her in return of her smile at him.

“We could stand to get rid of some things,” he heard Morrigan state from behind them. He turned to look at her, raising his brows in speculation.

“And what did you want to get rid of?” he asked her with humor. “We’re keeping both the dog and Alistair,” he quipped. She gave him a small laugh as a reward.

“I have things,” she said with an air of superiority that made Aedan laugh at her. She liked to think she was so much wiser than the others; he would let her until evening when he would force her to hear another opinion on any subject. Their discussions were lively, if not always comfortable.

The merchant happily relieved them of excess items and then offered them a control rod for a golem. He wasn’t sure if it worked, and ended up giving it to them for free.

“The golem is down in Honnleath,” he told the Warden as they were leaving. Aedan acknowledged the merchant’s statement and the team moved on.

“Are we sure we want to head to Denerim?” Alistair asked his fellow Warden.

“We need this Genitive fellow, and he’s in Denerim,” Aedan shrugged. “The likelihood of anyone recognizing us as Wardens is slim,” he commented. Alistair grunted, but still looked uncomfortable. “What is it, Alistair?” Aedan asked his friend. Alistair shrugged and sighed.

“Nothing, really. I am just concerned with Loghain’s orders concerning Wardens,” Aedan could hear the anger in Alistair’s voice along with the concern and he understood that anger. He hadn’t known Duncan long, but the man had been a good friend when he had needed one the most.

“I understand,” Aedan said softly, allowing his own anger to sound through his voice. “He and Howe have much to answer for,” Alistair simply nodded, his shoulders relaxing when he realized Aedan did understand. The others considered the larger picture being that Loghain had allowed the king to die, and while that did anger Alistair; he had admired his half-brother, he was angrier about Duncan and the Wardens being left to die. Angrier that they were being blamed for the King’s death.

“They will answer,” Alistair murmured, and Aedan nodded.

“We will have to do it right; though,” Aedan said. Alistair gave him a hard look. “Right now Loghain has the upper hand, brother. Right now, he has the nobles on his side. They don’t have any other version to look at and _we_ don’t have any leverage,” Alistair made a scoffing sound.

“You were going to be a Templar, did you pay no attention to the politics involved?” Aedan asked with genuine curiosity. The blond man shook his head.

“I have no head for politicking,” he admitted. Aedan chuckled wryly.

“You had better learn, Majesty,” the dark haired man replied.

“What?” Alistair was truly confused at this statement.

“You’re the next in line, Alistair. Aurora will get no backing from the nobles at the landsmeet because she is not royal. Bastard born you may be, you are still of royal blood;” Aedan shrugged when Alistair gave him a look of horror.

“I don’t want to be king!” he whispered furiously

“Well unless you can think of another way, you’re going to have to be king,” Aedan was so matter of fact in the statement it gave Alistair pause. He frowned in concentration as he began to think. Aedan knew the man was afraid to lead, most likely because he was afraid to make a wrong decision. Of course, he was raised mostly by servants until he was shipped off to the Chantry. He knew there had to be people who believed he thought more of himself than he probably did, and then again he most likely brought a lot of ridicule on himself in an attempt to downplay his bastardy.

Sten had moved up; switching places with Alistair to watch the rear. Sten maintained a silence for several minutes and Aedan let him. He knew the Qunari wouldn’t speak unless he had something truly important to say. The day was cool although mild for the height of winter in Ferelden. Sten had begun to speak when they came across a woman in the middle of the road. She said her caravan had been attacked by bandits, could they please help. Sten and Aedan looked at one another and nodded at the same time. There was no sound of fighting, and she had clearly not been attacked, but a trap known is a trap already sprung.

The seven of them followed the _distraught_ woman to where there were supposed bodies lying on the ground and a staged camp. Morrigan and Wynne both cast magic at the group seconds after they drew their weapons. Morrigan causing half to panic with nightmares and Wynne blasting them all with lightning. Draven and Alistair leaped to attack one of the men who had been lying on the ground in wait while Sten took on three of the fighters; easily removing their heads. Aedan faded into the shadows cast by the flashing lightning and chose his target; quickly taking him down from behind. Leliana had climbed atop a wagon and was taking well placed shots at the two mages the other group had.

Twenty minutes had passed in all when the seven fighters went over the bodies to make sure they had gotten everyone. They were surprised to find one elf, better armed and armored than the others, merely unconscious.

When he awoke he was surprised to find he was not restrained, although it was clear he wasn’t going to be going anywhere any time soon.

“My name is Zevran,” he said quickly and with humor. “Is there a chance I may throw myself on your mercy? Have you need of an assassin perhaps?” he continued. Aedan frowned at the man.

“You are an assassin?” Alistair asked with surprise. “Not a very good one, it seems.” Zevran laughed without humor at this.

“The Crows will agree,” he said. There was a slight bitterness to his words, although no real regret.

“You’re an Antivan Crow?” Aedan asked with interest.

“You’ve heard of us, I see,” Zevran asked from his place on the ground. Aedan nodded. “Then you already know my worth. As I am dead for having failed in my mission to kill you, perhaps you will take me on as a bodyguard,” Sten harrumphed.”Well, _another_ bodyguard then. Or you can make use of me in other ways,” he said salaciously; to which Aedan laughed good naturedly.

“We fight the blight,” Aedan told the assassin.

“I knew that, already, Loghain had made it clear he wanted all the Wardens out of his country. Claimed he didn’t need Wardens to stop the Darkspawn,” Zevran said as he rose from the ground.

“Did he hire you personally?” Alistair asked with heat.

“No, a Rendon Howe hired the Crowes, I was the closest so they sent me, nothing personal at all on my part,” Zevran replied. Aedan grunted and Alistair scowled; although neither commented further.

“Join us, then,” Aedan said.

“What, an assassin now?” Alistair whined. Aedan gave the senior Warden a glare. “Fine, but don’t come crying to me when he slits our throats in our sleep,” Alistair grumbled.

“No fear of that, Warden. I pledge my life to you, until such time as you no longer want it or the debt of my life has been repaid,” Zevran said to Aedan with a formality that was slightly intense. Aedan accepted the pledge with the same formality.

The day had gone long in the tooth by this point so the team made camp; after clearing the bodies from the area.

* * *

Another week of travel saw them at the gates of Denerim. With so many people they decided to split up to take care of several things at once. Morrigan, Sten, Leliana and Zevran went to trade for supplies while Aedan, Alistair, Wynne and Draven made for Genitivi’s home. The dwarven merchant Bodan and his son Sandal made camp outside the bustling castle, away from the main road. The Tranquil mages followed suit.

Several hours later the group met up back at camp. All the supplies had been retrieved, but Brother Genitivi was apparently missing. There had been someone in the man’s house who claimed to be his assistant but had no real information to give them. When pressed he had attacked the four of them. He hadn’t been the man’s assistant; had actually killed that same person. There were a few hints as to where they could start looking for the missing Brother; a place called Haven near the border of Orlais. A long trip, but a necessary one at this point. That the Tarn was perhaps farther gone in madness than anyone assumed was clear to the group as he had apparently locked his daughter up in Fort Drakon; under Rendon Howe’s care no less. He’d named himself Regent, basically stolen her throne. There was sure to be civil war at this rate and Alistair and Aedan both knew  this was a true blight and Ferelden couldn’t afford to be split at a time like this.

“Then we need to hurry,” Alistair said. They all agreed.

“We still need the elves,” Aedan said with a shake of his head. “Dwarves too,” he waved in the direction of Orzammar.

“We can head into the Bracilian Forest from here, make our way to Haven then on to Orzammar,” Alistair advised. Aedan nodded his agreement after a moment.

“We’ll camp here for a few days, get some real sleep, then head out,” Aedan decided. The others looked relieve. The women all made plans to head into town to bathe properly. The men decided it would be a good idea for them as well.   



	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Orlais

Warden Constable Blackwall looked at his companion of three months and fretted. It had taken him hours to calm her down after reading of the Templar’s deaths. He knew it was because her lover had been among those killed; and although he could understand her being distraught he didn’t understand her complete shutdown.

He had reached out to a friend of his in the White Spire to help him keep her calm enough for her to process the information. She still wasn’t completely there; it was worse than when the Templar had ended their relationship. They had received reports from the Wardens in Ferelden with updates on the fighting with the blight and the oncoming civil war due to Loghain’s declaring himself Regent over his grown daughter’s throne. Alistair had sent more messages detailing other events: Arl Eamon having been poisoned by Loghain via an apostate maleficarum, brokering a peace between elves and werewolves; Blackwall couldn’t quite wrap his head around that one, finding a golem and an assassin to help with the fight against the Darkspawn. The group had just returned to Redcliffe with the Sacred Ashes of Andraste. Blackwall would have loved to have been there to find that holy site.

Blackwall had sent a message back to Redcliffe in the hopes of catching the Wardens before they moved on to their next objective. He was proud of the two junior Wardens, they were handling themselves well. Should Eamon survive he would be a great ally in their fight to stabilize the region, to ensure they had the armies they needed to fight the Blight. It had been a full three months since the two of them had left to go to Weisshaupt; and now Blackwall was wondering if it was the right thing to do. To go all that way.

He looked over at the red haired girl on her horse and took in her posture. She looked defeated and it was hurting him. She responded when spoken to, she ate and kept herself clean. She only came alive, however, when fighting. His heart broke for her when he looked into her once bright green eyes.

“We’re not going to Weisshaupt, are we Gordon?” she asked suddenly. He jerked at the sound of her voice. She may have asked a question, but she didn’t sound invested in the answer.

“No, Wynne, I’m taking you to Val Chevin instead,” he answered. She nodded in response and said nothing more. He sighed after five minutes and called a halt to their progress.

“Dismount, Warden,” he said gruffly. She did so, and waited next to the horse. He frowned, black brows drawing together in a dark slash.

“You aren’t the least bit curious?” he asked her. She looked at him as he rounded the horse’s head.

“Should I be?” again, she spoke as if the answer didn’t actually matter.

“Bronwynn, are you even in there?” he asked in exasperation. This seemed to penetrate her despair filled mind.

“I am,” she said, and there was a modicum of compassion in her voice. Some semblance of normalcy.

“I am in here, but -” her face began to scrunch up, green eyes filling with tears. “I can’t … I can’t,” she said on a half-sob. She forced herself to breath, forced herself to calm down. He could see the effort it took her; could see that she wanted to break but was refusing to give in to the pain. He fell in love with the girl right then; and knew he would never do more than be her friend. She was trying to move forward, past her grief and he would never be able to be what she needed to do that.

“I am sorry, Wynne.”

“For what, Gordon?” she asked.

“For not giving you a real chance to grieve,” he replied. His reward was a ghost of a smile; another semblance of normalcy.

“You do not need to apologize for that, my friend,” she said. Sincerity was thick in her voice; along with unshed tears. “You kept me from willing myself to death. Kept me from breaking my promise to the Wardens; and yes, even to him,” she nodded and stepped forward to wrap her arms around his barrel chest. “You are a good friend, Gordon. You deserve better than a broken mage,” she leaned up and kissed his cheek. He hugged her tightly; using the gesture as a means of conveying his love before letting her go.

“We’ll be at the fort soon; Clarel should be there. We can give her the reports and let her decide what the next step should be,” he said gruffly as he mounted his horse once more. The young girl was still holding herself as if she had been broken by the world, but he could see she was breathing better and there was more color in her cheeks. He had accomplished that much and was grateful for that at least.

* * *

Bronwynn Amell thought daily of the remaining potion in her pack. How easy it would be to simply take the last four bottles and just stop thinking. Then she thought about what Cullen would have said to that and nixed the idea for ten minutes. Then she would think about how guilty Blackwall looked; it wasn’t his fault but she didn’t know how to express that. He had been correct, Cullen wouldn’t have wanted her to die. She had loved him enough to live. She knew that was the harder part, anyway and he; her love, had given her the tools to be stronger than any heartache.

The thoughts were a constant circle in her mind, broken only when her life was at risk. Blackwall had to think she had a death wish, but truthfully she was determined to fulfill her promises to the Wardens. She would help them with the blight, she would try her damndest to find a true cure for the taint. She may have a reason to die now; but she couldn’t let Cullen down.

Then the thoughts of the potion would come back and it would start all over again.

The last few hours riding were silent, as it had been before; but this time Bronwynn could feel he was a little more relaxed and found she was actually happy for that.

The fortress of Val Chevin rose before the two and she frowned at it’s extravagance. Of course, she grew up in Ferelden and thought Denerim had been the height of haute couture when she had gone there. After Val Royeaux she knew she’d never see her home Capitol the same. She missed her home, she realized as they rode across the drawbridge to the fort.

They were met by several senior Wardens, a blond mage with close cropped hair standing in the center of several other mages and a few archers. Blackwall dismounted and clasped hands with the blond mage and slapped the archers on the back. Bronwynn watched his interaction; and was careful not to show these formidable warriors how much pain their nearness caused her. She hadn’t realized how used to feeling Blackwall’s presence she had gotten. All these senior Wardens around made her feel like she did when the Darkspawn were near.

Blackwall turned to her, to introduce her to the others and could see her discomfort. It was a look he had seen  on her face often while at Ostagar.

“I don’t sense any Darkspawn, little sister,” he said, half joking. She smiled wanly at him.

“No, brother, but there are Wardens here,” she replied, there was some humor in her voice. She was trying; for his sake. He acknowledged the attempt with a small laugh as he swept her into the group to introduce her.

“The new Warden Commander of Orlais, Clarel*1. We have Brandt, Armond, and Chelsea here,” he waved at the rest. “And my knowledge of everyone else's names fails me,” he laughed at himself and the other Wardens laughed with him.

“I received word from Duncan; you two were to be heading to Weisshaupt,” Clarel said, dismissing the others with a gesture.

“I thought the trip too far with the blight so close to us, Commander,” Blackwall said. Clarel smiled with humor at his obvious half-truth. “I know we must wait, Commander; for the blight to reach our borders. Loghain has closed his borders to us,” Clarel nodded in agreement. She was of an age with Blackwall and knew the politics of the situation as well as he did.

“I am sure there is more to it than that, Blackwall,” she said bluntly.

“Aye, Warden Bronwynn has a way to, well, stop the blight from consuming we Wardens,” he told the Warden Commander. Once again she sensed it wasn’t the full truth; but since all Wardens wanted a better way to fight the blight, a way where no one had to die needlessly, she was willing to let it go.

“Truly?” She looked at the young mage with interest. She was blushing; and since she was very pale it wasn’t very attractive.

“Yes,” Bronwynn answered; and when Blackwall’s shoulders seemed to relax at the sound of her voice Clarel began to wonder what made her friend so concerned about this young mage. “Unfortunately, right now it only works on those who have just undergone the Joining; and only those who’ve been infected less than a year,” Clarel closed her eyes; she felt both regret and relief.

“I’ll take whatever we can get, Warden,” Clarel said to the mage.

* * *

Several months passed in a blur for the young mage. The Warden Commander of Orlais being a mage herself meant Bronwynn didn’t have to fight as hard to have her theories heard; or even tested.

She was able to prove for Clarel that her formula for the joining was more effective than the original. She even managed to improve her cure with access to a Warden library and Wardens who were more than willing to discuss what they felt as they became more tainted.

She could still only remove the blight itself from the junior Wardens, those who had taken the Joining under five  years; but it was an improvement all the Wardens who came through Val Chevin were pleased to learn. Word was quickly spreading through the Order - new recruits didn’t have to die out of hand. There was a chance the Order would actually be around in the future to stop the Blights as they came.

* * *

Clarel watched the young red haired girl interacting with the newest mage recruits. She was an excellent trainer and related well to the group. Even the non-mages responded well to her. Not every Warden that came through liked the girl; but she was a Warden. They could all feel her within their bond. The new Wardens were a happier lot; not so prone to melancholy although they too were more serious that most people would expect.

Bronwynn Amell was by far the most serious of them. She seemed to find it hard to find joy in life at all. The latest reports from the Wardens in Ferelden had brought hope to all of them; they had finally gotten the country to work together to end the blight.

Warden Commander Clarel heard a step behind her and turned to see her friend Jean Marc Stroud. She smiled and beckoned him closer.

“Is she the one?” Stroud asked his mentor; who nodded.

“Her skill with magic is impressive, as is her control,” Clarel said as they watched her move through a series of spells. “Her research is comprehensive and she’s actually improved her cure since joining us,” Clarel waved towards the fifty or so new Wardens that were on the practice field.

“With so many living through the Joining we have been able to truly be picky about the Recruits. Training is better, although we’re having to go further to find Darkspawn,” Clarel laughed softly.

“Will they really not hear the Calling?” he asked in his noble Orlesian accent.

“It’s not that we don’t hear the Darkspawn, Brother,” Bronwynn answered instead of Clarel. “It’s that we aren’t going to feel the need to go out in a blaze of glory,” she shrugged. “Unless we feel we’re too old, I guess,” she smiled at her jest, but even Stroud could see her heart wasn’t in her smile.

“They’ll do, Commander,” she said as she turned to the older mage. Clarel nodded and motioned her to follow her and Stroud.

“News, Stroud?” Clarel asked. He nodded his dark head.

“The Archdemon is dead, that is what we heard two nights ago,” Both Bronwynn and Clarel breathed sighs of relief.

Warden Cousland has sent reports that he’s moving to consolidate the area of Amaranthine with the new King’s permission. He’s also being very closed mouth about how he and King Alistair survived killing the Archdemon,” Clarel frowned but then shrugged.

“I supposed we can find out later. There are more pressing matters,” she turned to the two Wardens.

“I have heard from the First Warden; he’s decided that the new formula for the Joining should be used more widely,” she smiled the two. “I’ve decided to send you to the Free Marches; we have word of several openings to the deep roads there that should make training easier,”she sighed. The two nodded their understanding.

“I am going to miss having you around, though Bronwynn,” Clarel said with a sad smile.

“Oh?” the younger girl asked.

“You keep us older Wardens on our toes,” Bronwynn gave the older mage a small smile, that almost reached her eyes.

“I do my poor best, Commander,” she quipped before bowing to both older Wardens and taking her leave.

“Watch over her, Jean Marc; she means a lot to the Constable,” Clarel said. She knew Stroud had never met the Warden Constable Blackwall; but knowing she was important to another Warden would mean he would watch over her.

“What are we to do in the Free Marches, Clarel?” he asked her.

“Recruit, as usual, but extra training for the new recruits,” she looked at him askance. “We need you to report if the new recruits are actually capable of fighting the Darkspawn like we are; can they find them, can they fight them,” she turned to face him.

“Can the Darkspawn sense them,” she said. He nodded his understanding and took his own leave.


	20. Chapter 20

Dragon Age 2

_Chapter 20_

Bronwynn had to admit, she hated the Deep Roads.

Oh, they were beautiful to look at; at least the architecture that had survived the Ages was. This Thaig in particular was full of interesting features. Far older than anything she had seen in the other areas. However, they were very confining for humans and elves. Dwarves; even most surface born dwarves were more comfortable in the tunnels than humans and elves.

Bronwynn did take comfort from the spirits that seemed to follow her through the carved halls. Many of them were eager to share their knowledge of the area and wanted nothing in return other than conversation.

The new recruits were out with Stroud and Donnavan looking for Darkspawn. Bronwynn would smile indulgently when Stroud would act like he wasn’t testing her. She knew the older Wardens wanted to be sure it wasn’t some sort of trick, that the new Wardens would be able to handle the Darkspawn when the rest were gone to their Calling. He wasn’t doubting her personally any longer, and even seemed to be past the testing part. It felt more like he was actually training the new recruits that were sent to them or that they had brought into the fold.

She and Michele and Cor were setting up camp. Cor was complaining about how this wasn’t like any Thaig she’d ever seen. She grumbled a lot, did that dwarven fighter; Bronwynn thought she just liked to grumble. Michele skulked around the opening to the room keeping an eye out for random Darkspawn, although all three knew there were none close.

Bronwynn was sorting through her potions and ingredients, seeing what she was short of; determining if she should volley for a return to the surface when all three felt the others returning and reacted with alacrity.

Michele stepped out the door with bow drawn as Cor stepped out with him, two handed sword at the ready. Bronwynn had a shield ready to cast for when the group came in.

Stroud and the three others filed into the room carrying a fifth person; and Bronwynn’s heart dropped to her stomach when she recognized her cousin Bethany. It was clear she was blight infected; nearly completely gone from the looks and smell of it. She cast her shield out of reflex just as Stroud began speaking hurriedly to her.

“I am assured she’ll make an excellent Warden, should she survive this,” he said as he had her laid down upon an open bedroll. “If you can cure her, now’s the time to do so,” Stroud said; Bronwynn gave him a scathing look as she knelt next to her cousin and pulled her potions bag towards her. Moving quickly she found the bottle she needed and looked to the men who had carried her in.

“One of you hold her legs still, the other hold her torso still. Stroud; since you’re so very sympathetic you hold her head still,” she ordered. Startled by the order though they were, they followed her commands. “The rest of you, guard the door; watch the walls; we don’t need any visitors right now,” she finished as she began pouring a small bottle down the dark haired mage’s throat.

Together the four of them held the girl as she convulsed, Bronwynn pouring healing magic into her frame to keep her strong. It didn’t take long; after fifteen minutes the blight had poured out of her body to seep into the bricks of the Thaig. Bethany’s natural color had returned and she was breathing normally.

“Who assured you she’d make a good Warden,” Bronwynn asked Stroud after the group had settled in for the night.

“An ex-Warden by the name of Anders,” Stroud answered.

“An _ex_ -Warden. Is that possible?” Bronwynn asked. Stroud laughed with bitterness.

“It is, although it is definitely extenuating circumstances in this mage’s case,” Stroud answered. Bronwynn decided she didn’t need to know.

“Well, thank you for agreeing; I would hate to have lost my cousin and not known about it,” she said. Stroud was amazed to hear some caring in her voice. Although she was no longer quite so somber as she had been when he first met her at the end of the Fifth Blight; she was still mostly rather monochromatic in her speech. Hearing any emotion in her voice other than anger or urgency was strange.

“How well do you know her?” he asked.

“Well enough to know she will make a good Warden. She’s strong of will and compassionate as well,” he nodded. Two things that did; in their own ways, define a Warden.

“We can always use good men and women,” Stroud said non-committally. Bronwynn gave a sardonic chuckle.

“You don’t have to like me, you know,” the young mage said with wry humor. His black eyes nearly popped out of his head.

“What are you talking about?” he asked. She shrugged.

“I don’t mean to sound dramatic, or whiney,” she said to him. “But I have noticed you doing all you can to not get close,” she shrugged again. “You don’t have to like me,” she repeated. He suddenly laughed, long and deep. She frowned in confusion.

“Bronwynn, Michele doesn’t like you; of course he doesn’t like any mage,” Stroud said while still chuckling. “I like you,” he said to reassure his fellow Warden. She blushed and looked away. “I apologize for keeping my distance; I am unsure how close I want to get to my fellow Wardens when so many of us are doomed to die,” he admitted. Bronwynn turned dull green eyes to the senior Warden and nodded somberly.

“I can appreciate that thought, Lieutenant” Bronwynn replied. “I am still grateful you agreed to save my cousin,” she smiled wanly at the Senior Warden and then rose and went to her sleeping pallet. He watched her lie there for a time. He knew she pretended to sleep more often than she actually slept. Whatever she had lost had taken more from her than most Wardens ever truly lost; yet she still gave everything she had left to the Order.

He hoped she kept the strength that allowed her to keep going through that heartache. He would hate to lose such a fine Warden.

* * *

“So Garrett and Carver managed to get out of Ostagar,” Bronwynn said with relief as she and Bethany were walking through the fields outside the estate that the Wardens had bought just outside Kirkwall in the Free Marches. Six months had passed since they had rescued her cousin from the Deep Roads and the Blight. This was the first they had had to talk of anything other than Warden business in all that time.

“Yes, and insisted that Mother and I grab the essentials and we started running...all the way to the Kocari wilds,” Bethany sounded bitter and angry.

“The Blight overran Lothering within days after the rout at Ostagar,” Bronwynn told her cousin. Bethany nodded her understanding.

“I’ve heard from friends who managed to find safe haven in other places; but I lost everything,” and Bronwynn nodded this time, understanding what Bethany meant.

“You can start over; here,” Bronwynn said gently. “You don’t have to, but you can.” Bethany smiled and laughed at herself; realizing she sounded like she was blaming Bronwynn for the Blight.

“I know, and I am working with Teresa and Trista to find the best places to plant the new stock.” Bronwynn smiled at her cousin and hugged her.

“So what happened next?” Bronwynn asked. Bethany sighed sadly and finished relating her tale.

“Carver was killed by an Ogre,” Bronwynn gave a soft cry. “Mother took it hard; and then we found out that her brother had gambled away her whole inheritance!” she shook her head in disgust.

“Garrett, Aveline and I had to work for smugglers to pay the way into the city for all four of us; that was pretty demeaning,” She stopped walking to look out over the river that flowed down to the Wounded Coast and into the Waking Sea. “The expedition into the Deep Roads was supposed to be our way out of Low Town.”

“How did you find the entrance?” Bronwynn asked.

“An ex-Warden named Anders had them; said he hated the Deep Roads but since he owed Garrett he came with us,” Bethany looked at her cousin wryly.

“I guess it was a good thing he did,” she said. Bronwynn smiled back.

“I’m glad he did; I would hate to have learned you’d died when I was down there and could have saved you,” Bronwynn replied.

“Now I’m a Warden,” Bethany said with a return of the bitterness.

“Well yes,” Bronwynn replied. “Now; however, you need not fear the Templars. Wardens only care that you kill Darkspawn. Become an abomination and we’ll worry then; otherwise you’re trusted to know yourself and your strengths,” Bronwynn put her hand on Bethany’s left shoulder.

“Cousin, you’ll get to go to so many places; and help so many people. All they will see is the uniform. No one cares if a Warden is a mage or a thief or a fighter. All they care about is you are a Warden,” Bethany let herself think on the statement before nodding.

“I’ll try to let it go,” she said in response. Bronwynn nodded and changed the subject as they walked back to the manor house.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cullen looked at his now personal room and wondered what Meredith would have said about his relationship with Bronwynn. Then he realized that had Bronwynn been raised here she wouldn’t have been the woman he loved.

Cullen forcibly turned his thoughts from the redhead. His dreams; nightmares were plagued by her torture - by his treatment of her. He had been grateful when he was transferred to Kirkwall with his promotion; he had hoped it would give him a reprieve from the horrors. It hadn’t.

Cullen made his way to the courtyard of the Gallows to oversee the training for the new recruits. He caught himself watching one of the redhaired mages as he passed her, his heart hammering in his chest. He then saw one of the Templars standing over another mage; face contorted in fury while the mage cowered in fear.

“Templar, what is the meaning of this?” Cullen snapped, causing the Templar to jump guiltily.

“Knight-Captain!” he then said with a surly sneer. “I heard this mage talking about a blood ritual,” Cullen could hear the lie in the man’s voice and see the lie in his body language. He turned to the young mage who was still cowering in a ball.

“Go to your quarters,” he ordered and the mage scrambled to obey. Cullen then turned back to the Templar. “If I see an injury on that boy I’ll give you an equal one. Lying to your new Knight-Captain is not a good way to get into his good graces,” Cullen growled at the Templar.

“Ser!” The Templar spat, Cullen narrowed glacier blue eyes at the older man who then modulated his tone.

“To your duties,” he ordered and the man left. As he went the rest of the way to the courtyard he noted several mages who appeared to be conspiring; he took note and found a Lieutenant Templar to keep an eye on them.

He passed an auburn haired Tranquil and had to close his eyes to walk past her; his stomach roiling. There were so many Tranquil in this Circle. Meredith was harsh on the mages, and quick with the brand. Cullen knew that many mages were not going to become what she feared, but he also knew they all had to be watched. They were so quick to give in when they were tempted.

He knew his mage would be horrified at the treatment so many mages received. He wondered if she had perfected the spell to remove magic without making mages Tranquil. Cullen found the new recruits and watched them moving through their practice; giving suggestions and corrections where he saw it was needed.

The courtyard of the Gallows was large enough there was a small market near the docks that lead to the city proper. He could hear the weapon and armor smiths hawking their wares. From the other side he heard one of the Tranquil talking about the potions that were for sale. He catalogued it all, although he didn’t truly hear any of it. When he saw the Warden mages come in he turned to look; a reflex due to the armor. He saw a dark haired girl and another red haired woman and turned away again.

He needed to get her out of his mind.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bronwynn swallowed her misery as she watched the Templars practicing. How she could miss sparring with him she wasn’t sure. It was the only time she hated him; he was so hard on her. It had saved her life, that harshness.

Watching the soldiers of faith moving through their practice caused a lump in her throat. She looked at Bethany and stopped moving; stopped breathing. There he stood; her Templar - Bethany said her name and he turned a little and - no. It wasn’t him. Her heart began pounding and she felt the world tilt.

“Let’s get the stuff another time, Beth, please?” Bronwynn asked quietly; turning back to the docks. Bethany followed, clearly confused.

* * *

“You want me to hang out here in Kirkwall and make nice with the nobles?” Bronwynn asked Stroud several hours later. Her auburn brows were drawn together in a frown.

“No, Clarel wants you to do so, to be available for the Divine’s agent,” Stroud repeated patiently. Bronwynn narrowed her green eyes at him; she thought she heard sarcasm in his tone. Of course he didn’t understand why she wanted to go back to the manor; and she couldn’t tell him she was afraid of ghosts.

“And does Clarel say what the Divine wants with the Wardens?”

“No,” he laughed when she growled at him. “Fine, Sister,” he held his hands up in supplication. “Commander Clarel happened to mention to a friend of hers that you had several ideas for better ways to deal blood mages. Apparently Divine Justinia would like to learn more,” she shook her head at his humor.

“Fine,” she said in exasperation. “I will play the politics; although I hate dancing,” her response got another laugh out of him.

“Most people say they hate politics,” he said as he wound down. She gave him a ghost of a smile.

“I grew up in a Circle. The politics in a circle are quite different, true, but The Game is The Game,” she gave a gallic shrug. “I know how to play.”

“Well, play well,” he quipped as he took his leave from the house in Hightown. Bronwynn just chuckled as he walked away. Clearly he had decided to try and be friendlier. She watched the few servants the Wardens had hired for the in town estate as they moved through their routines. After a moment she shook herself out of her reverie and moved to the room she had taken for herself.

It was the only room on the second floor with a balcony access. The balcony overlooked the square courtyard beside the manor where a lovely garden of gardenias and amarilys’ surrounded a koi pond filled with large golden koi.

The stairs leading into the courtyard were in a block spiral; squares on top of squares and it appealed to her sense of humor. The theme of squares flowed into the bedroom on the windows and along the walls. When she unshrunk her shelves and books the look was complete.

Had she been conscious of it she would have noticed the color scheme was silver and blue; she would have recognized the bed she had enlarged was identical to the bed she had shared with Cullen in the Tower.

She summoned water into the pale pink marble tub she had created in the bathing chamber. She let the warmth soak her tensed muscles into relaxation, although her heart continued to pound as if she had run a marathon.

He was dead and he wasn’t coming back, she needed to deal with it.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Night had fallen hours ago and his patrol had ended shortly after; and still he could not sleep. Restlessness had once again set in and so he took a late ride across the bay to the city proper.

Cullen found himself, once again, in the Chantry Cathedral. He stood before the statue of Andraste; staring blindly at her form, his mind wandering to happier days. Cullen went to one of the pews on the side of the dais and began to pray for her forgiveness for what he had done to her. Where normally he found comfort in the prayers, tonight he found none. The Mothers made their way through the Chant of Light as Cullen left the cathedral; the sound followed him through Hightown.

He kept enough of his awareness on his surroundings to keep from being ambushed, but let his mind wander as it would.

What would his mage be doing now? Would she be studying the blight more; or would she be teaching the new Wardens? When his mind began to wonder if she had a new lover he closed his eyes and made himself stop thinking along those lines.

“ _Shadows fall and hope is lost,_

_Steel your heart, the dawn will come,”_

Cullen heard the song, and at first thought it was her voice; knowing it couldn’t be.

“ _The night is long, and the path is dark,_

_Look to the sky, for one day soon,_

_The dawn will come,”_

Cullen followed the sound of the song, the more he listened the more it sounded like his mage. She hadn’t sung often; usually when she needed comfort, and this sounded so like her mournful tone.

“ _The shepherd's lost, and his home is far,_

_Keep to the stars, the dawn will come,”_

He found the open courtyard, and saw her; sitting on the edge of a pool surrounded by flowers in the moonlight. At first he thought his eyes were playing tricks; that perhaps the demons were plaguing him still. Then she turned her face up to the half-moon and he knew that profile.

 _HIS_ mage.

“ _The night is long, and the path is dark,_

_Look to the sky, for one day soon,_

_The dawn will come,”_

“Bronwynn,” he breathed her name with reverence; the sound of his voice just loud enough to carry over the sound of her voice as it echoed. Her head snapped in his direction, red braid flying over her shoulder. She stood and faced him, raspberry lips forming an ‘O’ of shock. She took a step towards him then stopped; shaking her head in denial.

Cullen took a deep breath, it felt like the first one he’d taken in a year; and then three long strides to grab her hands.

“ _Bronwynn_ ” he breathed again; this time his voice sounding choked.

Her mouth worked to form some sound, but nothing emerged. Cullen felt his heart stop when her eyes rolled back and she collapsed in his arms.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Garrett Hawke and Varric Tethras lounged against a wall in the Hanged Man of Lowtown in Kirkwall. It had been eight months since their return from the Deep Roads, his sister had written their mother to assure her she was fine; but nothing to him. He was bitter enough he had decided to get drunk on the swill at the Hanged Man; sadly, Varric had other ideas.

“Come on, Hawke! We can grab Blondie and Fenris, head down to the docks and knock some Carta heads together,” the dwarven bard was saying. Garrett sighed and shook his head at his best friend.

“No Varric, I think I’ll call it a night,” he dropped a sovereign on the table and slid through the crowd and into the night. He noticed the dark haired woman that followed him from the bar and grinned. The Rivaini pirate wasn’t nearly as silent or as stealthy as Garrett; of course she was used to working on the high seas. Garrett was more adept at moving through the city.

He didn’t actually want to lose her, though; so he kept himself just visible to her just until they reached the Amell Manor in Hightown. Then he moved to where he could watch her make her way to the house. He smiled wickedly when she stopped in the middle of the courtyard, realizing she’d lost him and growled in frustration. He waited while she dithered, unsure if she should go in or leave.

When she growled again and began to leave, he caught her at the entrance of the courtyard and pinned her against the wall.

“That’s a good way to get a knife in the gut,” she whispered breathlessly against his mouth when he broke the kiss. His chuckle was deep as he lifted her over his shoulder to carry her into the house.

Bodan merely smiled as he locked the door behind Hawke and Isabella, at least the Master was smiling now; he hadn’t been doing a lot of that lately.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Cullen had shouted in surprise as his mage collapsed in his arms and a servant came rushing out. The man hadn’t wasted time asking questions, merely showed the Templar where the Warden’s room was. Cullen absently noticed the room’s decor suited his tastes and preferred colors. The bed was so familiar he hesitated for a brief second before placing her on it. She hadn’t felt like this in his dreams, he could smell her in his dreams, but the scent was off, and now that he was holding her again he knew it for certain.

She was real. She was here. He could feel the air filling his lungs; he felt slightly lightheaded from the influx of oxygen.  Cullen reached into her bag and pulled out her smelling salts, the servant seemed shocked that he knew where they were.

“She is _my_ mage,” Cullen said; and though the butler heard the possessiveness of the statement, Cullen did not. The butler nodded and left the man to tend to the Warden. He gave orders to keep everyone away from her room for the time being.

Bronwynn jerked her head away from the foul odor and shoved at the hand holding the offensive scent. When her fingers touched the hand holding the bottle she froze. She slammed her eyes shut and let out a whimper.

“Bronwynn, my heart, look at me; please!” Cullen implored.

“No! You’re dead!” she cried, a heartbreaking sound erupting from her throat. “You died when Uldred finally tried to take over the Tower!” her eyes opened then and the pain filled, broken green eyes met shocked, glacier blue. Her left hand touched his face tentatively.

“Alistair said all the Templars in the tower died,” she whispered as the warmth of his skin registered.

“What do you mean?” Cullen asked, pulling her into a sitting position; keeping his hands on her shoulders. He could feel how cold she was through her clothing, he began to frown when he realized she was shivering as well as crying. “My heart, what is wrong?”

“You-you died, vhenan,” she whispered, tears now falling hot along her ice cold skin. “Please, leave me, I don’t think I can banish you,” he leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

“My heart, I will leave, if you insist; but let me speak first,” his throat was closing now. She wasn’t making any sense; but he would cause her no more pain - he just needed to let her know how sorry he was he had hurt her once. “No, don’t close your eyes, please, I have missed looking into those emerald seas,” she opened her eyes and gasped on a hiccough. Cullen took a deep breath, put his large sword calloused hands on her cheeks and looked deeply into her green eyes; dulled with pain and sorrow.

“I said horrible things to you; I-I have no excuses to give. My intent was to do what I did; hurt you. I just never meant to hurt you as badly as I did; I swear I thought you were already done with me,” here his own voice caught oh a sob. He swallowed and stood, releasing her face slowly. Treasuring the feel of her skin.

“I beg you, Bronwynn, forgive me; please,” She reached out and took his right hand in both of hers. A broken laugh escaping before another sob consumed it.

“Ma vhenan; I-I,” she took a deep breath and took control of her emotions.

“Ma vhenan; when I had time to reflect on it I realized you were being an unreasonable jealous ass. I forgave you when I realized you tried to beat the Warden and were unable to do so because you lost your temper. If you had truly stopped loving me; if you had truly stopped wanting me you wouldn’t have gotten angry,” she gave the man before her a watery smile.

“If what you need to rest, my love, is my forgiveness it is yours. I could never have hated you for long, anyway,” she closed her eyes and began sobbing again.

“Please leave, I don’t know that I can keep my promise to not throw my life away if you haunt me,” Her statement startled a laugh from her Templar.

“So dramatic, my heart!” he said when she looked up at him in shock. She began blinking rapidly.

“Cullen?” she whispered. Her voice full of doubt. The ghost in her mind never mocked her the way Cullen had. Her heart began to pound in her chest, Cullen could see color flooding her cheeks.

“Yes,” he said in exasperation. She stood from the bed and took two steps to him. Cullen didn’t understand the look on her face; and when she touched him as if he weren’t real he got frustrated.

“Bronwynn, my heart, why are you being so…”

“Alistair sent word the Circle had been overrun by abominations,” she said softly as she traced his face. Her voice had taken on the same reverence his had when he first saw her. He stood still and let her touch him.

“He told us all the Templars inside the Tower had died, been killed by Uldred and his lackeys,” tears filled her eyes again. This time, as close as she was, he could see how pale she was behind the color that had flooded her cheeks.

“I thought you had died, vhenan,” she leaned into his armored chest and wrapped her arms around him. “You’re alive?” she asked, almost as if she were begging him to make it true. He felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach with that sound. He had never heard his mage sound so lost. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly to him.

“I am alive,” he whispered against her hair. “I am here.”

“Cullen!” she cried out again and began to sob in earnest. Bronwynn felt as if her world had suddenly come back into focus. She clung to him, but wouldn’t open her eyes to look at him; afraid she was dreaming. When she began to shake Cullen became alarmed.

“Bron, love, please,” he managed to get her to let go long enough for him to sit with her on the bed; holding her on his lap. “Breathe!” he demanded.

“You’ll disappear!” she whispered hoarsely, to which he laughed.

“After all I’ve been through, that’s my line,” he said against her temple. She finally raised her head to look him in the eye. There was life in her eyes; and now he noticed it hadn’t been there earlier.

“You really thought I had died?” he asked in amazement.

“Blackwall and Clarel both tried getting more information from Cousland and Alistair; but neither would say any more about it. Warden Commander Cousland won’t discuss anything to do with the blight if it doesn’t involve curing it,” she was once again touching his face.

“I-” she took a deep breath and he could see that it was the first deep breath she had taken in a long time. “I was hurt, then numb and before I could get angry you died, and,” she got up from his lap and stood away from him.

“You don’t have to be kind; I know you were done with me,” she said. This time he could hear her heart breaking; and that he knew this was what had caused her to mix the potion that could have killed her slowly, drove him to his feet. He wrapped his large hands around her shoulders and shook her slightly.

“No!” he said roughly. “I am not just being kind, my love; my heart,” he said. She heard tears in his voice.

“I-” he took a deep breath, tried to fight the panic welling in his chest. “I don’t know what came over me; I don’t know _why_ I felt it necessary to break your heart-you hadn’t done anything to hurt me,” he cupped her elfin face in his hands.

“I tried to tell you,” she started and he interrupted.

“That bastard Anders told me; cursed me for the thrice blessed fool I was,” her hands reached up to cup his, she was still trembling.

“I was unconscious for hours after that Warden tried to beat sense into me; so I was too late to apologize to you. I am sorry, my love,” he whispered. Her breathing had evened out as she listened; she was beginning to believe he was real.

“You said you meant to hurt me?” she asked. He sighed and nodded.

“At the time I wanted to believe you had left me; it - it meant I could let you go, even though I didn’t want to.” Bronwynn frowned in confusion.

“That makes no sense,” she said; and then she laughed, a relieved sound. “You’re really real!” The laugher became hysterical, Cullen worked to calm her down.

“You don’t have to sound so amused by my lack of logic, love,” he groused good naturedly. Hearing her laugh was better than seeing her cry.

“I _did_ forgive you, Cullen. I knew you weren’t tired of me; but I also knew we were unlikely to see one another again after that. I realized it was better for you to have broken it off-” Cullen stopped her speaking with a kiss. The kiss was supposed to be gentle, lips on lips to stop her speaking.

Her gasp of surprise opened her mouth as his lips closed over hers, he slid his tongue into her mouth in reflex. His first taste of her in over a year made him groan. He could feel himself drowning. He felt her arms wind around his neck as she stood on her toes to get closer; their tongues dancing together.

It took everything Cullen had to stop at a kiss.

  
  



	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Bronwynn blinked as her senses returned. He had stopped kissing her; and although most of her thought that was a terrible thing; the thinking part knew it was for the best.

“Don’t make that sound, love,” he groaned as he stepped away. She gave an ironic chuckle as she reluctantly released him.

“Thank you,” she said softly. He gave her his crooked grin and her heart turned over.

“Don’t misunderstand, my love. I want more,” he said. She could hear the desire in his voice, could see it in his now ocean blue eyes. She felt her own desire spike with the knowledge. She laughed again.

“And since I have never been able to tell you no, you stop?” she said; a slight bitterness invading the question. He laughed at that.

“I have always wanted you to want my touch; I hope I never gave you cause to think you had no choice,” he retorted acerbically. She gasped and her eyes widened in shock.

“I-I’m sorry. Of course I never felt that way. Andraste, Cullen, you even asked me if I wanted it when you were inside me the last time,” she said, making him blush. “Why did you stop?” she asked, and although she wanted to step closer, she didn’t.

“Because I know how badly I want you; and how much I hurt you,” he said somberly. She nodded slowly to show she was listening. “I can’t just pretend I didn’t hurt  you, my love,” he continued. She raised her chin and straightened her shoulders.

“I appreciate that sentiment,” she said with composure that cracked very quickly. “But I don’t think I can let you go yet,” her voice was just above a whisper. “I am not asking you to shirk your duties, vhenan. I just need you to stay with me until dawn,” her voice broke on the last word and he pulled her to him to kiss her forehead.

“For you, my love, I would shirk my duty,” he said; she gasped at his sincerity.

Cullen quickly removed his armor; leaving on only his small clothes while she removed her robe to just her small clothes. When they met in the middle of the bed they both sighed in relief.

Their bodies relaxed into slumber; resting as neither had in over a year.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Isabella slid out of Hawke’s very large bed and began to dress. This was becoming a habit. She wanted to be in his bed more and more often. He never asked, he always let her decide. He never tried to make her stay when she left; and for some reason that upset her.

Isabella didn’t want to be tied to anyone, for any reason; especially not for love. Love was an excuse for owning; for controlling another.  She turned hazel eyes to the slumbering man, he had simply stretched out when she had exited the bed. His black hair was always just too long, just in his eyes. He always looked as if he had just gotten out of bed. Isabella wanted him to open his eyes and look at her; she loved the color of them. An amber so light they appeared to be gold.

She wanted him to smile at her; his lips would spread across his face, opening up just a little to show straight white teeth, and he smiled so rarely it was a treasure. He smiled for her, a true smile everytime he looked at her.

But he asked for nothing. Why?

Not that she _wanted_ him to ask her for more; she had made that plain. He was the port she wanted for now, but that would change.

Wouldn’t it? He growled in his sleep and rolled onto his back, the covers sliding off his nude form as he did. She drank in the site of his muscled body like a starving woman. He had brought her to orgasm three times in two hours and still she wanted more of him.

“Keep staring, Bella,” he said. His voice was heavy with sleep and desire. Her hazel eyes met his golden ones, she raised her raven brows in a challenge. Her heart flipped over when he smiled at her; a promise of pleasure.

Isabella removed what clothes she had put back on and crawled back into his bed.

“Can you keep that promise?” she asked with as much seduction as she could in her voice. He didn’t answer with words.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bethany Hawke and Jean Marc Stroud were deep in conversation as they entered the manor in Hightown the following morning. They discovered that Bronwynn had not risen for the day yet; and as it was just shy of midmorning they were concerned.

“Milady Warden is sleeping quite soundly, Serra,” the butler informed Stroud when he expressed concern and started to head upstairs to her room. There was something about the way he said it that made Stroud stop and look at the older elf.

“Soundly you say?” he asked. The elf nodded sagely. “She doesn’t sleep soundly,” Stroud informed the man. This had been her first night alone in the house; the servants may not have noticed her habits as of yet.

“Normally, Serra, you are correct, however last night she managed to be asleep by midnight and hasn’t stirred. I felt it best to keep the staff occupied elsewhere so she could rest as much as possible; given her trouble,” the elf replied with no small amount of assertiveness.

“Are you telling me to leave her be?” Stroud asked with surprise.

“Of course not, Serra. I am informing you of the circumstances; I know you care for your subordinate’s health,” the butler answered, he even managed not to sneer at the senior Warden. At this Bethany let out a tinkling laugh.

“Leave it be, Stroud, let her sleep. She truly does need it,” the mage said with humor. Stroud sighed and nodded his agreement.

Neither noticed the disheveled blond Templar leaving the courtyard, or saw him hesitate and look back at the room on the second floor. He did not hurry as he left; and the look on his face was one of awe and regret.

Bronwynn heard Stroud and Bethany in the hall as they decided to let her sleep and for that she was grateful. Cullen had woken her with a kiss. It was so full of passion she had thought he would actually make love to her; but he hadn’t. He had simply kissed her.

She had felt herself floating from that kiss, her mind clouded with such passion as she hadn’t felt in so long it frightened her. When he sighed and pulled away from her she had moaned in denial.

“Don’t make that sound, my love,” he had groaned again, this time with passion filled laughter.

“Then stop kissing me like that,” she had retorted smartly. Her reward a crooked grin. Her favorite look on his face.

“Never,” he had whispered, almost too low for her to hear so she had ignored it.

“It’s way past dawn,” she had said instead. He grinned at her with chagrin.

“I don’t care,” he  had answered. “I needed you,” he continued. “Right where you were last night,” her own lips spread into a contented smile.

“Will you come back?” she asked shyly. She wasn’t sure where she stood with her Templar any longer; she knew what she wanted though.

“I-” he stopped and looked at her. “I think we should figure out what we need to say to one another,” he finally replied. Her stomach began to knot.

“I know I love you, my heart,” he said when her brow began to furrow from the worry. “But can you honestly tell me that knowing I’m alive doesn’t change how you feel about what happened?” he asked her. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply before shaking her head.

“No, I can’t,” she replied. “I want to, though,” she said with a small laugh.

“We have time,” he said. There was still reverence in his voice, and she could even see some worship in his eyes and wondered if her eyes mirrored his.

“Yes, this time we do,” she had said.

* * *

His leaving had been harder than she had thought it would be, but she had kept her tears to herself. It would do no good to keep him here from guilt; she had never wanted him to feel guilty for any argument they may have had.

Well, maybe this time he should.

“Damn!” she whispered as she realized that Alistair had known all along that her lover had been alive. He had told her he was dead on purpose. She frowned as another thought came to her.

Anders had known as well. The rat bastard.

“Stroud!!” she shouted as she grabbed her armor and began sliding it on. There was a fury in her voice that he had never heard before and he and Bethany ran up the stairs to her chambers. She was buckling her greeves on her legs as they stormed in.

“What?” he demanded, having drawn his weapon yet seeing no one in the room. She gave him a scathing look that threw him off. There was color in her cheeks; her green eyes were alive with ire and snapping with life. Something had changed; she was clearly no longer depressed.

“I want to know if that ex-warden Anders is from my old Circle,” she demanded. She wasn’t going to assume there were other Wardens named Anders since it was a common thing to call those from the Anderfels. Stroud frowned at the question, he wasn’t sure of the answer. Bethany was.

"He escaped the Circle of Fereldan seven times,” Bethany said as if by rote; and Bronwynn narrowed her eyes and gave a satisfied smirk.

“Good,” she said with malice. “Would you happen to know where the bastard is?” she asked with feigned politeness. “Anders was my friend in the Circle. One of the few I knew would not hurt me,” she looked at Stroud with eyes full of questions. He sighed and closed his own.

“He was wilder than most mages. Clarel assigned him an ex-Templar as a partner,” Bronwynn gave a bitter laugh at that. “Just after the attack on Amaranthine by the Darkspawn he began to show signs of restlessness,” Stroud sighed in resignation.

“So Clarel, a mage, didn’t trust a fellow mage because he wanted the freedom to come and go as the rest of the Wardens do?” Bethany asked with a cynicism that  belied her young years. Stroud merely nodded.

Bethany and Bronwynn shook their heads.

It didn’t take long for the girls to reach the clinic that Anders ran for the poor in Low Town. There were several people in the clinic waiting for the healer to get to them. Bronwynn had always known Anders was an extraordinary healer; his intuition for healing was beyond anyone she knew. She could see for herself that there were several children who were suffering the start of plague. Bethany, having trained under Bronwynn, could see it as well. The two of them began to work with the children who were ill; helping heal as many as they could. Anders acknowledged them, but made no move to speak to them until the clinic was clear. His few helpers left for the evening after having made sure there was food and drink for the three mages. He then turned to look at the two women with trepidation.

“I see you have recovered well, Bethany,” he said to the dark haired mage first. Bethany gave him a small smile.

“You saved my life, and I am grateful,” she said with only a small trace of sadness. Bronwynn was proud of her, she was working through her anger. Now Bronwynn had to work through hers; preferably without killing Anders.

“I’m glad Bronwynn was with them; she was the one who really saved you,” he countered. Bronwynn snorted in derision. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. When his yew bark colored eyes met her emerald green one’s he shrunk in on himself. She was angry; and he had a feeling he knew why.

“You’re looking better than the last time I saw you,” Anders tried to hedge with Bronwynn, she tsked as a muscle in her cheek flexed. He tried his most charming smile and she merely gave him an even more steely glare.

“You look angry with me, Bronwynn,” he finally hedged.

“When did you leave the Tower for the last time Anders?” Bronwynn decided to ask; before she accused him of duplicity. He shivered.

“A few weeks before Uldred tried to take it over,” he said; and the horror in his voice was real enough. Bronwynn looked at him with her aura sight; and saw the spirit that was entwined with his soul.

“How are you still a spirit?” she asked aloud, not really meaning to.

“I try to remember it’s justice for mages I wanted; although it is getting harder,” Anders answered, and Bronwynn sighed with regret.

“You invited it in?” she asked. He frowned at her.

“He was brought over from the fade by a demon who had possessed a blood mage an age ago,” he said. “He ended up possessing the body of a fellow Warden. He’s not a demon, he never was a demon, why should he have to play the demon?” Anders demanded; Bronwynn shook her head at her old friend.

“If he had completed his task and returned to the fade I would agree; he was not a demon,” Bronwynn said quietly. Anders’ face contorted into anger.

“He should have to suffer-” Anders started to shout, when the spirit inside him seemed to speak to him.

“He is no longer a spirit of Justice, Anders, you know this.”

Anders looked at her helplessly. She could see he was torn, and that worried her more than anything.

“If it is still your _friend_ , a _spirit_ of _Justice_ ; then it will want to leave; to go back to the fade and not let you be harmed,” her voice was implacable. Unbearably reasonable to his ears.

“If it does not want to leave, if _you_ will not give up the power, Anders; you have become that which you once claimed to hate,” again, she was calm and logical.

“I did not use blood-magic to summon him,” he insisted. She shook her head.

“Yet still you are an abomination. Justice twisted becomes Vengeance. Did it offer you power for Justice for mages?” she asked him cannily. He swallowed and nodded involuntarily.

“I am still in control,” he said and she laughed sadly.

“No, you aren’t” she replied. Bethany put her hand on Bronwynn’s shoulder as Anders seemed to fold in upon himself.

“When you kill an innocent, Anders; my friend, I’ll deal with you,” she said. His tawny eyes were bleak with resignation when he looked at her.

“What makes you think I will?” he asked, and she heard the demon in his voice.

“You have always wanted freedom for mages; and you have always been willing to fight to get it,” Bronwynn answered.

“Leave Kirkwall,” Bethany said to the healer, he turned silver brown eyes to her; that she didn’t shiver said much for her strength. “It may be the only thing that saves you,” she finished.

Justice looked at the women before him and felt his ire rising. How _dare_ they threaten him?

He looked at the older woman with red hair and saw, beyond her own pain and anger she felt compassion for this man. She did care about his well being; and she would do whatever it took to save him, even from himself.

Justice receded and allowed Anders full control again; perhaps he did need to listen to the mage more; the mage did counsel patience.

“Why did you want to know about the Circle?” Anders asked in an attempt to change the subject. He was relieved when Bronwynn let him.

“Alistair sent word to Blackwall and myself that all the Templars in the Tower were dead,” she said and his eyes widened in shock and horror. He reached out and took her hand; squeezing it gently.

“I had no idea you had heard that, I would have sent word if I had!” He exclaimed. “I would never have let you suffer; _him_ , yes but never _you_!” He was so earnest, she believed him.

“I am grateful you like me enough for that,” she said with humor. He gave her his charming grin again and this time she relented and kissed his cheek. “Please don’t make me regret not fixing this,” she whispered to her friend.

“I promise to try,” he answered with sincerity. She nodded her acceptance of the promise.

After leaving the healer Bronwynn and her cousin made their way back to the manor; Bethany seeming to want to stop somewhere but never asking.

“We can go see your mother and brother,” Bronwynn said as they entered the Warden manor. Bethany shook her head.

“It will hurt too much,” she replied. “So, who is _he_?” Bethany asked with a smile.

“My lover, from before.”

“Before what?” Bronwynn laughed.

“Before when, before the blight; before I was a Warden,” she sat down and looked out a widow. “My Templar,” she whispered.

“You thought he was dead?” Bethany asked curiously. Bronwynn nodded slowly.

“Alistair had reported they were all dead; I was in deep shock,” she turned to look at her cousin. “I suppose I could always send him a scathing letter, eh?” Bronwynn commented with humor. Her anger was fading as she thought about the situation.

“Well, he is the King now,” Bethany said with a laugh. Bronwynn grinned and then laughed herself when her stomach growled.

“To the kitchen!” They laughingly cried in unison.

* * *

* * *

Several hours passed and Bronwynn had taken the time to think. Cullen had spent most of it working through several layers of subterfuge by Templars and Mages alike. So many of the mages in this Circle seemed to be maleficarum; yet he could see the abuses by some of the Templars. Still; he couldn’t fault them entirely.

He kept his mind on his work, setting up patrols and guard rotations; assigning Templars to rituals and Harrowings.

Not that there were that many in this Circle. Orsino didn’t have the power most First Enchanter's did; Meredith decided who was given the chance to advance.

He heard rumblings of issues in town with the Qunari. There were so many who were afraid of what they would do; Maker forbid anyone attempt to work with them and help them get out of Kirkwall.

He didn’t allow himself to think of his mage until nightfall. Then his mind would play nothing but memories of her.

She was alive; alive and herself! His heart rejoiced until he remembered what she had done. Yes, he had hurt her; but to risk- he sighed and shook his head. What was he truly angry about?

The fact that she had risked the vegetative state at all; or was he still jealous of what he perceived as a sexual relationship with the Warden? As he thought about the way the Warden and been so intimate with his nearness he realized it wasn’t just anger, but jealousy as well. Yet both she and the Warden had denied there had been anything between them. Did he have a right to still be jealous?

He laughed softly at himself. No, he had never had a reason to be jealous; but he had loved the woman beyond reason.

‘ _Be honest with yourself, fool_ ’ he thought. ‘ _Had you loved her beyond reason you would have left the Order for her._ ’ Yet he hadn’t; and although he had entertained the thought it had been only to decry it as impossible. She had made it clear she had known this; and hadn’t expected any less.

Now he wondered; would she have returned to the Circle for him? A little voice in his head whispered yes. Now he began frowning and felt anger rising again. Yes, she would have given up her freedom to be with him. Not because she loved him more than he loved her; because she had been that dependant on him.

Cullen grabbed the volume of potions and stormed from his room, pausing only long enough to strap a sword on his leather clad hips. His face was thunder and none of the Templars on duty questioned him as she left the Gallows for the second night in a row.

He made his way to Hightown with quick strides, anger evident in his every step as he retraced his steps from her home earlier that morning.

* * *

Bronwynn was laughing softly as Stroud finished recounting a misadventure during his training as a Chevalier  when the pounding on the door startled the group.

She and Stroud were the first to the hall when the butler answered the door; she recognized Cullen’s clipped tones and stepped further into the hall.

“Milady is entertaining,” the butler was saying to the irate Templar. As Bronwynn stepped behind the butler, she could see he was wearing leather armor instead of his heavy plate. His blue eyes locked on her when she appeared behind the butler.

“Well she can entertain me,” was his growled response. Bronwynn’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Adan, please show the Knight Captain to my sitting room,” she said softly to the  elf.

Cullen followed the elf, glaring at the men that stood behind his mage as he did so. Bronwynn sighed and rolled her eyes; she had a feeling this was about to get extremely awkward. She turned to look at her dinner companions and saw Blackwall grinning at her. She could see a relief in his eyes and she smiled back at him; recognizing he was happy for her.

“I think, Sister, we will take our leave and head to the Hanged Man,” he said before anyone else could speak up. She nodded her thanks and headed up to her rooms, chuckling when she heard Stroud demanding an explanation and Blackwall answering it really wasn’t any of his business. They were clearly friends.

She passed the elf who asked if she would like anything and she asked for refreshments, he nodded quite seriously. She didn’t see the concern in his eyes as he concealed it until she had passed him. The servants all liked the young lady as she was never rude to them and often tried to make their jobs easier. He hoped the Templar wasn’t going to harm the mage.

* * *

Bronwynn entered her room and found the Templar standing by her desk flipping through one of her notebooks. She took the chance to look him over, taking in the changes to his appearance. He was thinner than he should be, his skin had a waxy look; as if he wasn’t sleeping any better than she.

“You’re angry?” she asked; and when he turned to face her she could see the rage clearly. He held out another book, she could see it was one of hers.

“You left this in our chambers,” he said with very controlled precision; keeping his voice normal by sheer dint of will. She frowned but stepped forward to see what book it was.

She sighed as she realized what she had done. How she could have forgotten to take it … she heard the compassion spirit whisper an apology and closed her eyes. It had meant well.

“I am sorry I left it behind,” she said, although it came out woodenly.

“I thought you had overdosed on the potion,” he said; again in clipped tones.

“What potion?” she asked him warily.

“The one to control your emotions,” he said, and again his words were precise and clipped; barely controlled rage. She closed her eyes and put the book down on a nearby table.

“Why did you think I had overdosed?” she asked, fearing she knew the answer.

“You, who are so careful and efficient when when making potions; left a mess.” She shuddered. She hadn’t been the one in control; the compassion spirit had taken over long enough to make that potion. She had let it because she wanted to stop being.

“I would say I’m sorry for frightening you,” she said, opening her green eyes to look at him. “But I have never lied to you and I won’t start now,” she sighed softly when he just blinked at her. She then quickly cast a silencing charm over the room as his voice began to echo around her.

Bronwynn had a feeling he didn’t even know what he was saying, although he kept his hands at his sides.

“You left me!” he finally said, no longer shouting but just as emphatic. “You left me and didn’t even try to fight to make me listen!”

Cullen was breathing hard, as if he’d run twenty miles in heavy armor. He hadn’t known he’d had all that bottled up inside him; didn’t even know what all he had said. He knew, now, that the part that bothered him was the last part.

He looked at her, standing there listening to him; letting him heap it all on her head. He saw the stubborn lift of her chin; could see the defiance in her green eyes.

“No, I didn’t.” she answered calmly. “Why should I have?” His head jerked as if she’d slapped him.

“You say you hadn’t slept with the Warden…” he started to say and she laughed.

“No, you don’t get to use that. You knew I hadn’t. You knew I wouldn’t have done that to you,” She stepped forward, her chin lifted and firmed her green eyes flashing jade fire at him. “You knew how much I depended on you for everything,” he started to shake his head and she went on, implacably.

“You knew then I hadn’t slept with him. You knew and you just wanted to hurt me,” she said with a venom she hadn’t known she felt. “I told you, you were wrong. I denied it; you didn’t want to hear it!” she stepped back from him and met his glare with her own.

“You wanted to let me go; it was obvious when you called me a liar,” her voice was steel and part of him knew it was his doing. “Why should I have fought to make you listen when you knew?” she asked him.

Cullen wanted to answer but couldn’t. She was right, he had known then and knew even now. The conversation was imprinted in his brain, part of  his nightmares.

“I broke that day; vhenan. The only reason I did not take my life when you locked the door was my promise to you,” she said softly. “You were my whole world; my everything. I’m not being dramatic, it’s the truth,” she nodded towards the outside.

“You were jealous of Blackwall and I being close? He was a friend to me. Someone who reminded me enough of you I felt safe with him, and had you actually wanted to hear what I had to say that day you would have heard that. We are friends, not lovers,” she stopped talking, waiting for him to respond.

“Did you ever,” he swallowed guiltily. “Did you ever let him touch you?” he asked with dread, her answer confirming his one of his fears.

“Yes,” she simply. He moved so he was sitting in the chair by her desk.

“Then I have lost you,” he said softly.

“You’re not hearing me, again.” Bronwynn said in exasperation. He looked up at her and gave her a pained frown. “ _We are_ friends, _not_ lovers,” she repeated. “The day I got the message you had died I,” she faltered. “I don’t remember much after reading that message. Gordon tells me he spent hours trying to get me to stop being hysterical,” she sat on another chair and looked at the man she still loved.

“Why were you hysterical?” he asked in confusion.

“My world was gone,” she said. “Yes, I made the potion and even used it; as I directed it to be used. I couldn’t function when you said we were done.” Her eyes became unfocused as she thought about hearing he was dead.

“It was different when you were alive. Alive I could go on because the air was still worth breathing,” she refocused on him and smiled ruefully. “It took time but I was dealing with the pain,” he nodded to show he understood and was listening.

“With you dead,” she shuddered. “Maker, Cullen, I had nothing. No reason to go on. That was how much I needed you,” she shook her head. “Gordon finally managed to make me hear him say you wouldn’t want me to give up. After that I managed; barely, to hang on to sanity.”

Cullen saw her eyes echo the bleakness she had felt until the day before.

“Yes, vhenan; I left you. I left you because it was what you wanted me to do. Whether you meant it for my own good or because you wanted to hurt me stopped mattering when I thought you were dead,” she shook her head and sighed.

“I love you,” she said. The statement filled Cullen to bursting.

“I love you and I will not ask for anything of you. Knowing you live is enough for me to go on. As dramatic as that is; it is the truth,” she finished. 


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Cullen took a deep breath as he processed what his mage was telling him.

“How could you forgive me?” he finally asked, his voice broken; his whole body showing his guilt and grief. She watched his eyes fill with tears that he wouldn’t let fall. Her eyes filled with tears in response as she rose and went to him. When he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her between his legs to bury his head in her stomach  she wrapped her arms around his head to hold him.

“I would have kept you in the Circle; kept you dependent on me. I put you in harm’s way because I was determined,” she made a sound of protest when she felt his tears warming her skin through the flimsy silk of her gown.

“I,” he sucked in a deep breath and pulled away from her before pulling her onto his lap. “I am sorry,” he said. She put her forehead against his and sighed.

“I am too,” she replied.

“I-” he swallowed hard and shook his head. “I can’t tell you what I went through, not yet,” he said. In his blue eyes; eyes that had already seen too much pain when she first met him, were filled with a despair she feared would consume him.

“I will be here; vhenan, when you need to tell me,” she said. He kissed her then.

The kisses the night before had been as much for comfort as passion; and she could tell the difference because this kiss wasn’t just hungry.

It was ravenous.

He used his lips to coax her own open; and though he was gentle he would not allow refusal. His tongue traced the inside of her mouth and he groaned as he tasted her before he allowed his tongue to dance with hers.

Bronwynn felt the pins she had used in her hair falling from her head and heard them pinging on the floor as his fingers wound through her auburn locks. She tried twisting so she was facing more forward on his lap but he wouldn’t let her move. He kept kissing her as if he were drowning and she the only oxygen available.

He broke the kiss long enough to whisper her name against her lips before beginning again. She wound her arms around his neck and pulled herself closer to him; returning his passion with her own. She could hear her mind screaming ‘finally!’ and feel her body agreeing with the sentiment. He was here; he was alive, and he still wanted her.

When he broke the kiss a second time she moaned in frustration; his desire filled laugh rumbled through her chest.

“You keep making that sound,” he said as he moved his lips to her jawline, trailing gentle kisses along the left side of her law until his lips met her earlobe. She was breathless from the desire he had stoked in her with his own so moaned again. He then trailed his lips down her neck to her shoulder. The cloth of her silk gown was no protection from the heat of him.

“Cullen, please tell me you aren’t going to stop tonight,” she begged. Her answer was the sound of a dagger being drawn and the feel of her dress being cut open from the back.

“I hope you hated this dress,” Cullen murmured against the hollow of her throat before tracing a line with his tongue to taste her skin. He carefully put the dagger on the desk before ripping the gown the rest of the way and sliding it off her arms. When she shivered in his arms he growled with desire.

Bronwynn felt the growl and it triggered her need to act. She wound her fingers through his hair and brought his mouth back to hers, claiming his mouth with her own scorching desire. She felt his breath hitch in his chest; heard a groan and wasn’t sure if it was hers or his. She twisted out of his hands and stood; the ruined dress falling to the floor. She used the kiss to get him to stand, she broke the kiss to pull his jerkin off his chest.

Cullen’s eyes were a darker blue than she had ever seen them, she watched as he clenched his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her.

“Touch me, vhenan,” she demanded as she flattened her palms on his now bare chest. He sighed as she ran her hands over his skin, letting her fingers flex over his muscled abdomen.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he managed to say; his eyes devouring the sight of her nakedness. Her breasts were still firm, creamy teardrops tipped with raspberries. She raised her now deep green eyes to his ocean blue  and smiled.

“I won’t break,” she said huskily; reaching for his hands and stepping into his body. “Touch me, vhenan,” she demanded again.

Cullen opened his fingers and gave in to her. When his fingers met the skin of her sides, he could feel her ribs; and while part of him heard alarm bells at her being that thin, the rest of him revelled in the feel of her skin. He traced his fingers around her back and up her spine, pulling her closer to him. She whispered his name against his chest as she used her tongue to trace lines around his nipples.

Once more he tangled his fingers in her red hair, delighting in the silk of it in his hands as he angled her head up so he could kiss her again. Her fingers found the leather ties to his breeches and began to undo them. He could feel the heat of her knuckles against his erection and tightened his fingers on her head. When she wrapped her fingers around the hardened length of him he let out a breath in one deep woosh before breathing deeply of her.

Bronwynn made a sound between a moan and a mewl as she filled her hand with his dick and he filled her mouth with his breath. She snaked her free arm around his neck, lifting herself to her toes to press her bare breasts against his chest; opening her mouth to his kiss. Their tongues danced in a heated duel; not for supremacy but in passion.

When Bronwynn broke from the kiss to lick her way down his chest to his penis he forcibly grabbed her shoulders and stopped her.

“I will come inside you; not your mouth,” he said when she protested him stopping her. “I need to be inside you,” he breathed as he then lifted her by her waist and dropped her on the bed. He made short work of removing his boots and breeches before he then grabbed her ankles to pull her to the edge of the bed. Her eyes were wide with shock and desire, her breathing was heavy.

“Please,” she moaned seconds before he thrust inside her.

Time stood still for them.

“Maker,” she said, and he heard tears in her voice. Alarmed he tried to pull away when her long legs wrapped around his hips and locked at the ankles.

“Bronwynn?” he asked gruffly.

“Mine,” she answered as she lifted herself up to take him deeper. He gave a huff of laughter and began to move inside her.

Cullen held Bronwynn’s head in his hands and told her to open her eyes. The green of them took his breath away; but they were alive.

“Don’t close your eyes, my love,” he commanded, she nodded and her breathing became more erratic. He dug his elbows into the mattress and spread his legs farther apart, opening her up more. She stuttered his name in a question as he kept thrusting slowly into her.

“I need to see you come,” he said hoarsely as he felt her body tightening around his. “That’s right, love. Squeeze me.” He watched her face as she orgasmed. Her raspberry mouth opened in a silent scream as she orgasmed. He felt her body stiffen under his and then there was a high keening sound coming from her throat. Her pussy gripped his dick and she began to squeeze him as she came undone.

Cullen stopped moving to hold on to his control. He wasn’t going to stop now, he wasn’t going to be finished before dawn.

When her body relaxed she tried to speak, but he captured her mouth with his again and began moving inside her again. Once more he kept the pace slow and he heard her groan.

“Cullen,” she complained as she broke the kiss. “You have all night, we can, ahh!” he had taken the opportunity to suck her right nipple into his mouth, lightly tracing the nub with his tongue. She arched her back to give him better access. She let him move, let him taste her for a few minutes more before she growled in frustration.

Cullen felt her plant her feet on the bed beside his knees; felt himself slip deeper into her and groaned against her sternum. He was unprepared for her twisting them so she was on top.

“Bron!” he grunted when she took him even deeper still.

“I want more,” she growled at him; taking control and riding him. She swiveled her hips as she moved, using her inner muscles to keep him inside her when he tried to move her. His hands were holding her hips in a white knuckle grip, she was gasping with every down stroke; but she kept her eyes open and on his.

“I don’t” he tried to say, to stop her from wringing an orgasm out of him; but she wouldn’t stop and he lost the battle. He shouted her name and held her down as he pumped his seed into her womb. Her own orgam followed seconds later; her body once again going stiff with the power of it.

She collapsed onto his chest, breathless but smiling. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms. When Cullen began moaning her name in horror, Bronwynn woke quickly. She put cupped his right cheek in her left hand; pressed her body more tightly against his side. His eyes snapped open and locked onto her’s.

“Bronwynn?” he asked hoarsely.

“Yes, ma vhenan,” she answered softly.

“Destroy that recipe,” he said. She saw such pain in his eyes; heard the rawness of his voice she simply rose and went to the book. He watched her take the pages with the recipe on them and rip them out and throw them in the fire. She did the same with a second book and he laughed at himself. Of course she would remember the recipe.

“You humor me?” he asked. She looked at him and even in the firelight he could see her love glowing in her eyes.

“No, I do as you ask because that potion hurt you” she tilted her head to the side and then pulled four bottles out of a travel worn bag. She held them out to him. “You destroy these,” she said. It wasn’t just her humoring him. He sat up on the side of the bed.

“Why?”

“Because these have been my holdout; my just in case” she said. He frowned.

“What does that mean?” he asked her as he rose and walked towards her.

“I missed you,” she answered, her own voice raw from her own pain. “I wanted a way out if it got to be too much,” he took a deep breath as she said it. He took the bottles from her and threw them into the fire. It flashed purple as they broke. Something inside him came unclenched; unknotted.

He waited for her to ask him about the dream; but she didn’t; merely wrapped her bare arms around his waist and pressed herself against him. He sighed as he turned in her arms to wrap his around her.

“Prove to me you’re real,” he whispered into her hair. She didn’t ask how, she didn’t even ask why; she took his hands and lead him back to the bed.

“You, my Templar, would often make me keep my hands on the headboard or above my head someway,” she said as she pushed him down onto his back. She then ran her hands up the underside of his arms; raising them above his head until his hands found the bars in the headboard. He smiled as he remembered how much he enjoyed playing her body like a well tuned instrument.

“You smile now, my heart; but you drove me crazy with your playing,” he felt silk wrapping around his wrists and through the headboard. He looked up at her dubiously.

“Oh, I know silk won’t hold you,” she whispered in his ear as she slid herself down his body. “But I will have my way with you this night; you keep your hands there until I beg you to touch me.”

Cullen wasn’t sure if it was the warmth of her body against his, the hair of her pussy tickling his dick or the promise in her words; but his dick went from semi-erect to fully erect in seconds. The smile she gave him when she felt him against her thighs was more wicked than he could have given her credit for; and he wondered for a brief second; just until she kissed him. The demon had never tasted like her; and in his dreams she had never smelled right.

Bronwynn traced her Templar’s body with her hands. The feel of him under her fingers delighting her. Bronwynn sighed with pleasure as she touched him.

He groaned her name when it became clear she wasn’t going to rush into riding him. She used her fingers to trace every scar, new and old; she licked her way along his collarbone and down his sternum.

Bronwynn smiled against his stomach when he groaned ‘finally’ as his dick nestled between her breasts. She loved the feel of his hardness pressed against her, and she laughed wickedly when he pressed his hips up to get closer to her.

The red head took her time  tasting and touching the Knight Captain. She knew he had suffered something bad enough he couldn’t talk about it. Something that he still had nightmares of. If she was in any way a part of that she would do what she could to heal the hurt. She knew from her companions he needed her to not be what he dreamed of.

Cullen was pulling on the silk she had used to tie his hands with; panting as she slowly took his dick in her mouth. Her long fingers held the shaft loosely, enough to keep him upright. Her tongue twisted around the sensitive head, lapping up the precum and wringing another moan from him. His hips pumped up to drive his dick deeper into her mouth. He felt as well as heard her chuckle when he was unable to get more into her because she wouldn’t let him.

“Bronwynn!” he demanded, pleaded in a guttural growl. She was implacable as she continued to simply trace his dick with her tongue, her fingers gently massaging his testicles. She felt them drawing up tighter, felt his dick swelling against her tongue and gave a gentle suck.

Cullen shouted with surprise as well as pleasure when he came. His Mage swallowed every spurt of his semen as it filled her mouth; he could feel her moan of pleasure as she drank his seed. She used her mouth to wring every drop from him before she released him from her mouth and began licking and kissing her way back up his body.

“Bronwynn, love,”  he panted as she straddled his hips. Her smile; although still wicked was also full of innocent self satisfaction.

“I have dreamt of this, ma vhenan,” she said softly. “You want me to prove I’m not a dream, let me do what _I_ have dreamt of.” He swallowed when she leaned down and kissed him.

He had no idea how she managed to bring him to attention so quickly after his last orgasm; especially with just a simple kiss. He knew only that her body fit his perfectly; he just knew he would never get enough of her.

Bronwynn slid onto his hard dick slowly, savouring every inch as she did.

“Oh, Cullen,” she sighed when he was fully inside her. He had planted his feet on the mattress to lift his knees, making it easier for her to sit astride him. He gave another guttural growl and tugged harder on the silk binding as she began riding his dick. He heard it rip as he thrust up into her. Her cry of pleasure was enough to make him forget her request and he gripped her hips in his calloused hands, guiding her rhythm.

He could feel her orgasm quivering inside her he watched her face contort in pleasure-pain when she hovered on the precipice.

“Cullen, please,” she panted with her own growl and he rolled so she was under him. He claimed her lips in a kiss that seared as he thrust more deeply into her; his pelvic bone now crushing her clit with each stroke and his balls slapping against her. She screamed into his mouth; clenching her arms and legs around him as she held on through her climax.

Cullen’s own orgasm ripped through him with such intensity he stopped breathing and moving while he emptied his seed inside her.

He lay like that for a while, feeling her hands running through his hair and hearing a contented humming from her chest.

“I love you,” she whispered so softly he almost thought he hadn’t heard her. He raised his head to look into her emerald eyes and rolled to her left as he did.

“How can you still love me?” he asked. Bronwynn shook her head at him in bemusement.

“How can I not?” she asked him. “You think I stopped the moment you said we were done? That thinking you were dead meant my heart stopped needing you?” She caressed his cheek with the fingers of her right hand.

“I don’t deserve,” he started to say when she kissed him softly.

“You do, Cullen.” She meant it. After what he had done to her, she still loved him.

“I love you,” he said, and those three words held a wealth of emotions that were too hard to express. She smiled and kissed him again.

They slept.

___________________________________________________________

Fenris stood in an alleyway watching the dark haired, blood magic using, Dalish elf. He watched her as often as he could, as often as he could get away with it any way. Varric thought she was clueless to the dangers around her; Fenris knew better. The few thugs who did risk the bard’s ire were quickly routed by the girl; and rarely with magic.

Fenris himself had stopped a few of the larger brutes from attacking the slender girl; only because they were in his way of course. He refused to admit he was fascinated by her. He was watching her because he knew she was going to harm someone to get more power.

He had been watching her for over a year and she hadn’t. He wasn’t sure why she hadn’t. All mages turned to blood magic, all mages wanted more power. This was what he knew; and despite what he had seen of Bethany, Anders and Merrill he was still certain this was the case. Anders claimed he had not used blood magic to summon the demon inside him; and from what Fenris had seen he almost believed him.

Bethany had simply refused to acknowledge his accusations. She had not once tried to deny or denounce or defend herself. Garret had made it clear that he wouldn’t tolerate any more accusations on her behalf; but Bethany’s refusal to acknowledge it made him want to believe she wasn’t ever going to use it.

But Merrill was open in her admittance of using blood magic. She claimed she only used her own blood; and truthfully he had yet to see her use anyone else’s. She hadn’t even asked any of their friends if she could use their blood. Truthfully, he hadn’t even seen her use blood magic when fighting. She confused him.

Merrill seemingly wandered down another dark alleyway on her way back to the Alienage from Lowtown. Fenris frowned as he followed behind her. The clothing she wore was dark enough that he would have a hard time seeing her in the shadows.

The alley was long, narrow and darker than he liked. She could easily get hurt here, she wouldn’t have enough room to use her staff and although she was good with her knife she wasn’t as good as she would need to be. He focused through the lyrium etched into his skin and a soft blue light surrounded him, letting him see more in the shadows. He didn’t even notice there was a light around him, simply that the darkness was lighter and he could make out more shapes. He saw her halfway down the alleyway, leaning against a wall as if waiting for someone. He frowned, some part of him disappointed in her.

He made his way stealthily down the narrow road and stopped behind some boxes.

“You know, Fenris, if you are trying to sneak up on someone you really shouldn’t use the lyrium to enhance your vision,” she said with her usual humor. He stepped out from behind the boxes and frowned at her.

“Oh dear, I think your face has frozen into that scowl, Fenris.” she quipped.

“Why are you hiding down here?” he asked with suspicion. She sighed and shook her head.

“If I were hiding, Fenris, I wouldn’t have let you see me come down here. I _am_ Dalish, after all. Hiding is what I’m good at,” she said, again with humor.

“You aren’t all that good at it,” he said; he didn’t know why he wanted to argue with her. He wanted to hear her get angry. To show some emotion other than the placid humor she presented. Her innocence infuriated him.

“If you insist,” she answered, turning to walk the rest of the way out of the alley. He punched the wall next to him with his left fist; the knuckle spikes leaving deep gouges in the adobe.

Merrill gave a soft laugh to herself, the Tevinter elf was so easy to goad. She wished he would lighten up; there were already so many things working against elves, if he would simply find something to be happy about he might find the rest easier to bear.

“What did that poor wall do to you, Fenris?” she asked him, her voice light with curiosity.

“Better the wall than you,” he grumbled as he trailed behind her.

“Why would you want to hit me, Fenris? I have done nothing to you,” she said, turning into her doorway. She looked back at him with her head to the side.

“You are infuriating,” he exclaimed with frustration. She shook her head in confusion.

“I am sure I don’t know how, would you like a drink?” she asked him as she opened the door, waiting for him to follow her in. He stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind himself. He locked the door; something clicking inside. A decision made; yet he wasn’t sure why.

“Do you have any Aggregio?” he asked her. She shook her head but went to a cabinet any way.   
“I have a Tevinter brandy; but no wine,” she said as she pulled out a sparkling glass. Her movements were small, efficient and economical. She poured exactly two fingers of the rich brown liquid. He could smell the liquid from where he stood by the door. She turned and held the glass out to him, waiting for him to take it.

He knew she hadn’t done anything to the liquid. He had been watching her all day and knew she hadn’t done any magic at all, much less blood magic. He wanted to smash the glass, wanted to push her until she called her pet demon to attack him.

Instead he took the five steps to her and took the glass from her hand, his gauntleted fingers brushing her bare ones. He carefully put the glass on the counter and took off his spiked gauntlets. His blue eyes never leaving her green. For the first time he saw something in her eyes other than joy or thought. She looked confused.

“Fenris, what are you doing?” He didn’t answer her, instead he took off his chestplate. He didn’t want the spikes hurting her. He had other plans.

Merrill’s green eyes dropped to her visitors now bare chest. She followed the lines of lyrium as they wound down his arms and rib cage. They continued down under his leather breeches. She noticed also that he was hard under his breeches and she swallowed.

“Fenris?” she asked, fear tinging the word. Again he didn’t answer. He reached out and grasped her shoulders, pulling her to him before covering her open mouth with his own. He gave her no room to move, no way to escape the onslaught of his kiss. She froze in shock when he kissed her, not knowing how to react.

At first, she tried pushing against his chest to push him away, but her fingers seemed to curl into the heat of his chest instead of shoving him back. She thought she had taken a step back from him; instead she had moved forward into him. When his strong, long fingered hands slid around her shoulders and down her back she moaned. He slanted his head to deepen the kiss and capture the moan.

Fenris was surprised by how hungry tasting her made him for more of her. When her hands slowly moved up his chest to his hair; the ache of the lyrium lines being touched was mixed up in the electricity of her touch. He gripped the hem of her gown and pulled it up, he felt her shiver as the cool air hit her bare bottom. He groaned as her body moved against his erection. He pulled away from her long enough to pull the gown over her head before claiming her mouth once more.

Merrill had enough time to take a deep breath before his mouth was on hers again, she moaned and pressed her now mostly nude body hard against his. Merrill could feel the lyrium in his skin pulsing with his heartbeat where she touched.

When his hands gripped her bare buttocks and lifted she automatically wrapped her leather clad legs around his hips.

“Mythal,” she groaned when that pressed his dick full length against her vagina.

“Fasta vass, festis bei umo canavarum!” He uttered before putting her on the low counter beside the drink she had poured for him. Fenris leaned the mage back, drinking in the site of her tanned breasts. He dipped his snow white head and closed his even white teeth on her left nipple. Her fingers closed in his hair and she arched her back on another cry.

“Sylaise! Fenris!” She tugged painfully on his silver locks; and he growled in response. He slipped one hand between them and pulled the fly of his leather breeches open, freeing his dick from the now painful confinement. He could feel how slick she was with the knuckles of his hand as he pulled himself completely free of his breeches. He switched his hot mouth to her other breast; taking it completely into his mouth as he drove slowly into her.

“Fenedhis Fenris!” She exclaimed. “Na Elvhenan ma!” Fenris had no idea what that meant, but she would kill him with her pussy before he was done. He’d never had sex with anyone this tight.

He drew back when he was only half in and she cried out in protest. He covered her mouth with his once again, then used his index finger on his free hand to press her clit in circles. he could feel her pussy clenching on the head of his dick as she came from just that.

“Kaffas, amatus; how long has it been for you?” he groaned as he held himself still while she came. He didn’t wait to hear the answer, however. As soon as she had relaxed he drove into her once again; this time he made it all the way. He froze when she screamed in pain.

“Amatus?” he asked, his mind still clouded with desire. She swallowed the sound; shivering from the shock.

“H-how long has it been for what?” she asked him and he cursed.

“You’ve never had a lover?” he demanded; angry although he wasn’t sure why. She shook her head, tears spilling down the side of her cheek from the pain.

“Fasta vass; Merrill. You should have stopped me,” he breathed heavily against her sternum. “I can’t stop now,” he moaned. He started moving inside her again. “Festis bei umo canavarum,” he repeated. She stiffened when he started to move; but the pain had gone and now she could feel him again.

“Elgar'nan don’t stop!” she cried as the pleasure built again.

“I- I won’t,” he panted as he fought to keep his strokes long and even. He wasn’t ready to come just yet. Her legs locked around his hips again, she used the leverage to pull herself into him. “Fasta vass!” he shouted angrily and pulled her off the counter. He held her by her hips as he turned to her bedroom; each step agony as she moved on him. He lay them on the bed and held still for a moment, kissing her to distract him from wanting to pound into her.

Merrill gave an inarticulate cry when he didn’t move again for several moments. He growled into her mouth in response and began thrusting again, this time faster. The sound of her approval goaded him on and he began moving faster; keeping his strokes deep. He felt her climax building again. Fenris ducked his head to suck on her left nipple again.

This time when she came she gripped the whole length of his cock; he felt every ripple of her pussy walls and his intentions flew out the window.

“Fasta, Merrill; Amatus,” he growled against her throat as he came. He never even noticed how tightly she had gripped his shoulders, and she never noticed how hard he had bitten her breast.

Fenris woke to a warm weight against his side, and a dull ache in his shoulders. He smiled wolfishly when he remembered taking the Dalish mage, and for a brief moment felt a sense of possession when he thought about having taken her virginity. No other man would ever have that; for once he was the first. She would always remember him.  

Then he realized what he had done. He looked down at the dark haired elf lying naked in his arms; as if she had not a care in the world. A small smile on her lips. He shifted so he could look at her body and she moaned softly and stretched against him. Both the sound and the movement awakening his hunger for her.

“Amatus,” he choked after he said the word. He had meant it; how did he mean to call the bloody blood mage _that_? Yet mean it he did. She had merely twisted so she was now lying half on top of him, and he felt his dick stirring at the thought of what he could do to her.

What he wanted to do to her again; rather.

“Merrill,” he said gruffly. She sighed and placed her chin on his chest, her green eyes looking into his.

“You’re getting broody already?” she asked him with that humor of hers that so often infuriated him. “I was sure it would take you at least another ten minutes to get broody,” she sighed dramatically.

“Are you only serious about the clan that kicked you out?” he asked acerbically. Her eyes flinched, although the rest of her stayed relaxed. He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, amatus,” he said. “I-I do not know how to-I shouldn’t have-” Merrill shook her head and gave him a soft kiss on the side of his mouth.

“You are broody,” she said; and although she sounded as if she forgave him; he could see her in her eyes she had withdrawn from him. He frowned. That was better, he taken what he wanted. She would be out of his system now.

The lyrium marked man rolled from the bed and began fastening his breeches as he walked back into the main room. Merrill sighed to herself, swallowing her tears. Crying over men never did anything more than wet the grass. She stayed in her bed while he dressed; she figured he would leave without saying anything and she could wait until the door closed.

He surprised her, by coming back into the bedroom, holding her dress.

“Put this on, amatus,” he said angrily. She frowned.

“Why?” she asked him.

“Because there are fools enough out there who need killing simply for looking at you, giving them an eyeful of your body would mean I needed to kill more of them. Put the dress on,” he answered. The vehemence in his voice shocked her more than the words themselves.

“Am I going somewhere, Fen?” she asked him. His blue eyes darkened with his anger.

“Aye, now dress,” she shook her head. “Amatus, I will force this dress over your head and shoulders, I will truss you up like the troublesome blood mage you are and I will carry you like a sack of potatoes; put the dress on.” Her eyes had widened with every word. He meant it. She scrambled from her bed and scurried into her dress. When her head cleared the top of the gown she found him throwing most of her clothing into a large bag, she cried out in confusion.

“What are you doing?” she demanded. He stopped and looked at her; the expression on his face confused her for a long moment. She had never seen anyone look at _her_ that way. As if _she_ were prized.

“I did not mean to hurt you,” he said finally as he closed the bag and slung it over his shoulder. “I meant to … fuck you,” he said and it sounded as if the thought was distasteful.

“I thought you would have taken a lover when with your clan,” he said. There was no pity in his voice or expression. Instead a kind of pride mixed with possession.

“I didn’t make a lot of friends,” she whispered, looking down. He reached her side quickly and raised her face up to look at him.

“Their loss,” he said. Merrill wasn’t sure if she trusted this side of the angry ex-slave. Then he kissed her; a searing kiss that reminded her body of all the wonderful things it had felt just a few hours ago.

“I’ll send someone for the rest of your things, even the damned mirror,” he said as he took her hand and gave her only enough time to grab her staff and drag her out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you check out the wiki for Dragon Age Tevene you can translate what Fenris said, same for Elvhen and what Merrill said.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

**Dragon 9:33 Mid Summer**

Cullen stood where he could see the Templars going through their training as he went over the reports he was given. He sighed when he realized Meredith still wasn’t going to let him take over most of the duties he should have by now. Three years into this post and the Knight Commander didn’t truly trust him. She felt he was too soft on most mages; but he couldn’t see treating even the children as if they were blood mages when they didn’t even know what blood magic truly was. His mage would say that education was the best deterrent against it’s use; but he knew that education sometimes encouraged.

This was the only thing they no longer discussed; the Circle. He couldn’t tell her what he suffered at the hands of the Fereldan mages and she wouldn’t push him. She had tried to ask about the abuses by mages and Templars, he refused to discuss it. She just stopped bringing it up.

He hadn’t seen her in three weeks, he also hadn’t heard from her in that time. Now that he realized it had been so long he growled in frustration. He didn’t want her in this Circle, bedamned if it ever happened, Meredith would put her to the brand simply because she had a voice. He would, however, like it if she would keep in contact with him.

Night came and Cullen was already across the harbor halfway to his lovers manor when he crossed paths with Garrett Hawke, her cousin. The sight that Cullen then saw caused his blood to boil.

His mage under the arm of her cousin, who was groping her drunkenly. Her laugh was light and she didn’t seem to mind in the least. He stalked closer to the pair as they were weaving around the columns in the center of the square.

“Now, cousin, you know you don’t mean it,” Bronwynn was saying as she laughed. It was getting harder to laugh at his antics, he was getting a little more serious than he should be.

“Maybe if I take another woman to bed the wench will realize she loves me,” he slurred. Bronwynn moved his hand off her breast for the tenth time, if he weren’t so drunk she wouldn’t be having this problem.

“Who?” she asked. It was the first time he’d made any statement that made sense as to why he was attempting to strip her.

“The pirate; the wench, that Rivani bitch Isabella,” he spat as he fell; taking his cousin to the ground with him. Thankfully she landed on top.

“I’ve heard of her, she’s supposed to be fairly wild, cousin,” Bronwynn said as she pulled herself away from his still groping hands. She heard steps behind them, they sounded familiar. “Why do you care if she loves you or not?” she asked Garrett as she turned to face the person behind them; sighing in relief when she saw Cullen. She registered the look of anger on his face but decided to ignore it. He had spent a lot of time these last three years angry; she wasn’t sure why and since he didn’t want to talk about it she was just going to let him be angry.

“Thank the Maker, vhenan; I thought I was going to have to drag him to his house,” she said when he was close enough.

“To do what?” he asked. She shook her head at him.

“Really?” she replied with acid. “I ask you, Ser Templar, help me take my drunk cousin back to his house. After that I’ll bother thee no more,” she went on. He narrowed his eyes at her but reached down and pulled the drunken rogue up by his shoulder.

“Oooh, I remember you telling me about your Templar, cousin; is this him?” Garrett slurred as Cullen began to half drag half walk the man in the direction Bronwynn had indicated.

“Yes, Garrett, this would be him, ass that he is,” she mumbled the last under her breath, but both men heard her.

“Oy, what did you do to my Cousin?” Garrett asked the Templar, breathing heavily in his face and causing the older man to stumble from the stench.

“I have done nothing to her she didn’t want” Cullen replied. Garrett snorted.

“Do’n matter,” he said in sympathy. “You get upset with them cause they get hurt, or cause they don’t come see you in a month, or don’t write! Do’n tell me a pirate captain that was a lord’s wife do’n know how to write!” he shouted.

“Garrett, please don’t yell,” Bronwynn asked as they were suddenly surrounded by a gang of thugs. “As you can see, it disturbs the neighbors,”  Garrett snickered as he moved away from Cullen; who had drawn his sword.

“Take care of ‘em, Cousin. I”m not fit to fight,” he said on a laugh.

“Well that is an understatement,” Cullen said as he stepped behind his red haired lover.

The Templar and the mage made short work of the ten thugs who had jumped them. She had frozen half and then shattered them with  her sword while he had simply cut the other half down.

“Wow, Brawny, you’re pretty good with the magic,” Garrett slurred, half asleep now. Bronwynn shook her head in exasperation.

“If I had my potions bag on me you would not be in this state; cousin,” Bronwynn said as the man pulled a flask from somewhere and drained it. He laughed bitterly.

“You could just sleep with me; that would help me get out of this state!” Garrett leered drunkenly. He wasn’t expecting the jab to the jaw from the Templar. Bronwynn threw her hands up into the air in frustration.

“I could have done that an hour ago if I wanted him unconscious!” she said. She didn’t, however, try to wake him up Cullen noticed.

“So you liked him pawing all over you?”

“He’s drunk, Cullen, he wouldn’t have been able to do more than paw,” she answered his vehemence with her own.

“Where is his house?” he asked through clenched teeth. She pointed to a building not far and as he picked the unconscious man up she knocked on the door. He was surprised to see a dwarf answer the door.

“Bodan?” Bronwynn said with shock.

“Aye, MiLady; how are you?” he asked her politely.

“I’m well, Serra Dwarf, I hope you and Sandal are doing well also,” she replied. Cullen snorted in disbelief. She was making small talk while he carried her bastard cousin.

“Um, yeah. Hawke has imbibed a bit much, Bodan,” she said; and she simply shrugged when his eyes widened in worry.

“Poor Ser; he has been rather down lately. I’ll show you to his room, Serra Templar,” the dwarf said as he opened the door further to let them in. Bronwynn followed until they reached the main room and she hugged Leandra; quietly making small talk as she waited for Cullen.

The blond knight unceremoniously dumped the big man onto his bed and let the dwarf remove his boots. He himself was more interested in finding out why _his_ lover hadn’t written him in three weeks.

“I’ll let her know you really want to see her; Stroud tries to make it out like we should already be dead; but I won’t let her do that,” she hugged her aunt and kissed her cheek before turning and walking out the door just before the still angry Templar. She didn’t move away when his fingers brushed the center of her back or when he reached out and pulled her back to his side.

“I’m not wearing my armor,” he said to her. She made a noise that sounded like agreement. “How did the dwarf and your bastard cousin know I am a Templar?” he asked.

“You move like a Templar,” she said. He grunted. He slid her hand down his arm and twined her fingers with his; she gripped his hand as tightly as he gripped hers; and still.

“You are leaving me again,” he said suddenly; they had reached the entrance to her garden. She sighed as she opened the gate.

“No, I’m not leaving;” she said, but he could hear the ‘but’ in her statement.

“But?”

“I don’t know; vhenan. I want to be what you need; but I think you aren’t ready;” she shrugged, not sure how to say that better.

“I won’t tell you about the Circle,” he snapped at her, anger boiling up again.

“No, I understand not wanting to talk about that; but why are you always angry with _me_?” she asked him. He frowned when answering.

“I haven’t heard from you in three weeks; and when I decide to come find out why you’re letting another man grope you,” he answered.

“Uh-hunh, I asked you to come see me four days ago. You weren’t very nice when you replied,” she countered. His frowned deepened.

“I don’t remember your sending me any messages,” he said.

“Because I didn’t, I was at the Gallows,” she said. He shook his head. He didn’t remember that.

“Maker, vhenan, how much lyrium are you drinking?” she asked him, there was a fear in her voice he had never heard before.

“Why?” he asked.

“I know the lyrium is supposed to grant you your abilities to stop magic; but by Andraste it will also take who you are away from me- you” she said and although she caught herself, he was glad to hear she still wanted him.

“I,” he paused for a long moment. “have been drinking it more to help with the dreams,” he said. She lowered her head but said nothing. He watched her face pale and her lips thin out and realized she desperately wanted to say something and yet she wasn’t going to.

“Damnit, Bronwynn, say it!” he shouted at her, her head snapped up and her green eyes sparkled with ire. She didn’t like it when he shouted at her.

“Fine! It’s not my fault!” she she shouted back. He took a step back and hit the wall of the koi pond.

“What?” he asked, truly confused.

“It. Is. Not. My. Fault.” she repeated; he wanted to know what she was thinking, very well.

“What isn’t your fault?” he asked her.

“What ever those fucking maleficarum did to you, it’s not my fault,” she said. His eyes widened.

“You think I’m blaming you?” he asked her. She snorted and rolled her eyes before moving up the stairs to her room.

“No, we’re talking,” he shouted at her.

“No, we’re shouting and I’d rather not have all of Hightown hear it,” she answered. “The last thing you need is for that madwoman you call a Commander knowing you’re fucking a mage,” she said before she entered her room. He was up the stairs and in the door before she could slam it on him.

She squeaked when he carefully shut the door and locked it. She had already added the silence runes to the room, he did like to hear her scream in pleasure. Now, however she was startled by the ice cold fury in his eyes.

“Say that again,” he whispered softly, ominously. She narrowed her emerald eyes at him and lifted her chin; shouting defiance at him with her squared shoulder and ramrod straight back.

“The last thing you need is for that madwoman you call a Commander to know you’re fucking a mage,” she said again. “Especially one that wasn’t made Tranquil first,” she spat at him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever actually _fucked_ you,” he said in response. Bronwynn swallowed as he removed his weapon and began removing his armor.

“Well you haven’t been paying attention,” she said; praying she’d goad him enough to leave now; because this time he was truly furious with her. This time he might actually beat her.

“Oh no, my mage, I know exactly what _fucking_ entails, and I have never actually _fucked_ you,” she swallowed again, although she refused to back down or away from the fury in him. His movements weren’t jerky, he wasn’t out of control and that the was the only clue she had that he may be dangerous to her.

She also wasn’t sure she like the way he kept saying that.

“Then what would you call it?” she demanded. “You may stay the night when you get here, but we don’t talk, it’s all sex,” she countered. “I am fairly certain it’s not a relationship if it’s just sex!” Wow, she hadn’t known how much that bothered her until she said it aloud.

“Still haven’t _fucked_ you, my love; but I will if that’s what you want,” he said. She hadn’t been paying close enough attention to his movements. He was now completely naked.

Oh how she loved to look at his body. She forced herself to keep her eyes on his; to not fall into the trap of wanting him. He had wanted her to speak her mind, he had wanted her to tell him what she was thinking.

“You think not telling me how bad it was will keep me from pitying you? It won’t. I pity you for the denial; I pity you for the hate, I pity you for the way you turn aside now when good mages are being tormented or tortured worse than I was because a few other mages harmed you!” she was shouting at him again, tears flowing down her cheeks.

“You may think you haven’t been _fucking_ me but that’s what it’s felt like to _me_!” She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders again.

“So go ahead, Knight Captain, _fuck_ me. Get it out of your system. Use me to empty your hate into; it won’t change a thing,” she let the last echo through the room before saying softly. “Take what you want, Cullen; I’m powerless against you.”

Cullen stood naked before his mage and felt as if he had stepped off a very high cliff. He’d wanted her to tell him what she was thinking and she had. Maker, he couldn’t breathe. He turned away from her and dressed quickly. He looked at her when he was done, took two steps to her and kissed her; as a drowning man will drink from a cup. When he left her he could hear her crying. The sound tore at him and he wanted to go back to comfort her; but he knew he needed to think before he came back.

* * *

* * *

Late summer

Bronwynn, Stroud, Bethany and several other Wardens were back in the Deep Roads, exploring once again. This time following the trail of Bertrand’s expedition in an attempt to find what would hopefully lead them to the start of the blight. Not necessarily the Chantry approved version either. Nathaniel Howe had come to Kirkwall with information from Amaranthine and the Darkspawn that called itself the Architect. It claimed it had a way to cure the blight; a way to ‘enlighten’ it’s fellow Darkspawn; Bronwynn wanted to know what was wrong with her cure.

“Your cure may kill the Darkspawn,” Nathaniel had said with a grin. She had laughed with him. He liked to flirt with her; and although she had a feeling he was more interested in Stroud than her she flirted back because she could.

Two months had passed since she’d last seen her lover, she knew he was alive; knew he was at least functioning. She made herself be content with that. There was so much going on in the city right now it was difficult enough to deal with the Chantry as the Wardens were asking her to do without adding the complication of her wayward lover to the mix.

She was currently in the middle of examining a vein of lyrium that  sounded different to her. It was also red; and this was worrying.

“Maker,” she muttered to herself; although Bethany heard it.

“What?”

“Nothing really,” she answered. No sense bringing attention to it. She could be wrong, after all. She and Bethany waited while Nathaniel and Stroud argued quietly. Bethany frowned and turned her head towards a door that no one had opened as of yet. Bronwynn and Nathaniel did the same; Stroud and the other three wardens didn’t seem to notice until all three suddenly moved so they were facing the door weapons at the ready.

“What?” Stroud asked just as Bronwynn threw out a blast of ice from the tip of her staff that hit an ogre that was bending through the door. Bethany turned to the left and threw out a raging storm of fire and wind up the stairs that were in that direction. Nathaniel put two arrows in the ogre; causing the frozen form to explode into shards of ice. They all heard screams from other Darkspawn as the ice impacted with them.

Stroud and the other two warriors joined the fray as Darkspawn came in from the right as well as those that forged through the fire on the left. Bronwynn began throwing lightening and energy bolts into the group that had bunched up in the door until Nathaniel shouted he was getting low on arrows. She then dropped her staff and drew her swords; no one saw her shift through the fade to meet the oncoming Darkspawn.

Bethany met the blade of the Hurlock with her veridium staff before knocking it back and plunging the blade of her staff into it’s throat. A shout of anger and it began jerking in response to the lightning she infused it with.

The six wardens moved together with a flow that kept the Darkspawn horde off balance and unable to get the advantage. Bethany and Bronwynn turned as one when they felt the Darkspawn Emissary arrive. No words were needed as they each hit the blighted creature with their magic; Bethany using a dispel to remove any protections it might have and Bronwynn trapping it inside a telekinetic field to prevent it from moving. Nathaniel; who had retrieved his fourth quiver put two arrows in the thing’s eyes while one of the other warriors skated past several genlocks to cut the spell caster’s head off.

Two more ogres came rushing in from the left and right; Bronwynn and Bethany both swore and dove aside as their locations were rushed.  Stroud and the third warrior moved in to attack one of the ogres while Bronwynn pulled an ethereal blade and went for the second one.

Nathaniel used his bow to block a swing from two genlocks before slicing them with a  dagger.

Everyone was engaged with the horde; but the battle was quickly ending with the Wardens the victors.

When Bethany and Stroud looked around they both saw Bronwynn standing; pale with blood pouring out of her side. Green eyes met brown as the girl looked at her cousin.

“Maker, that hurts,” the red haired mage said just before collapsing.

Bethany was at her side within seconds, drawing on what little power she had left to heal  the wound. It wasn’t going to be enough.

“Get me her bag!” Bethany shouted, only to have Stroud drop beside her and pull out the poultice that was on top.

“Damn! I thought her shields were better than that!” Stroud growled as he helped the younger mage.

“Only so long as she had the energy to hold them; that was a very large horde!” Bethany answered; praying hard that this would be enough to keep her cousin alive.

“We’ll have to get her out of here,” Nathaniel said as he and the other two warriors began cleaning up their things. Stroud nodded; helping Nathaniel make a litter for the injured woman.

It had taken them two weeks to get to where they were; and they hadn’t dawdled. All five looked at their injured sister and began praying as they took up the litter and began to double time it back the way they had come.

* * *

Cullen was waiting at the docks to head back to the Gallows two months later when he first heard the rumor. Warden Stroud was trying to find someone for his fellow Warden. He ignored the rumor in favor of boarding the boat. He had a lot of work to do and the less he thought about the Wardens the better.

He missed her but by Andraste he wasn’t going to make her cry anymore. Knowing she was alive and herself was going to have to be enough. She had been right; he was blaming her and until he could figure out how to stop he couldn’t see her.

The second time he heard the rumor it was a little more in depth; apparently one of the Warden mages had taken a serious injury in the Deep Roads but hadn’t yet succumbed to death. Once more he shrugged it off.

Meredith brought it to his attention the third time.

“They will allow the mages they conscript to be maleficarum and then wonder why they don’t die when they should,” she scathingly said after she told him what she was hearing.

“Yet I want to be sure this one will not endanger the city; go to the Wardens and put her down if that is what it takes, Knight Captain.”

She had thankfully not noticed how pale he had gotten with the order. Of course, she gave him more information than the snippets of rumor had.

Warden Amell; the red haired favorite of the Orlesian Warden Commander. Meredith had been scathing in her recital; clearly not wanting to actually help the Wardens with anything. Cullen didn’t even bother to ask, he simply ordered Orcino to grab his healing kit and come with him.

He managed not to run through the Gallows; or even to order the ferry to move faster, Orcino did have a hard time keeping up with him, however.

“Maker, Knight Captain, is this Warden that important?” he asked breathlessly. Cullen didn’t answer; simply got them to the Warden outpost outside the city.

“He’s here!” Bethany shouted from the window in Bronwynn’s room. Stroud shouted back an affirmative and went out to meet the Templar and the First Enchanter.

“Knight Captain?” Stroud asked warily. He wasn’t sure he really wanted the man there. Bronwynn might give up if he went in to see her.

“Aye, I brought the First Enchanter to help with her healing,” Cullen said. His blue eyes were glacier, and if his face hadn’t been so pale Stroud would have thought Bethany wrong about this man loving his friend.

Bethany appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Good, I’ve done all I can. This way First Enchanter,” she said. He nodded with a small frown and followed the Warden Mage. Cullen stayed where he was, keeping an eye on the fighter before him. He could sense this man had something to say and he wasn’t going to like it.

“I didn’t know the name of her Templar lover. Is that you?” Stroud asked bluntly. Cullen simply nodded brusquely. The other man sighed and ran a hand through already disheveled hair, upon looking closer Cullen could see the man hadn’t been sleeping or eating well.

“What happened?” Cullen asked. His voice was still as cold as his eyes, but that he asked at all gave Stroud hope.

“We were attacked by three hordes at once,” he answered. “She managed to, somehow, get pierced by an ogre talon,” he sighed again and looked up the stairs. “A poisoned ogre talon.” Cullen let out the breath he’d been holding and collapsed in a heap on the ground.

“How long?” he asked, now his voice sounded hollow.

“One month. It took us ten days to get back to the surface and another ten days to figure out she was poisoned,” he snarled something not so nice.

“Anders, bastard that he is, wouldn’t tell us who you were. Said you’d only make things worse. Whenever she does wake she keeps saying vhenan,” Stroud sighed again and reached down to help the Templar up.

“I don’t know if I want you to see her; she may say goodbye and be done...I am not ready to lose another Sister to the damned Darkspawn,” Stroud said with feeling. Cullen looked the Warden in the eyes and nodded.

“I’m not ready to lose her period,” was his answer.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Cullen sat in the large overstuffed chair that faced the bed from the farthest corner. Orcino and Bethany were talking quietly about how to counteract the poison when Bronwynn opened her eyes. Even from where he sat he could see the redness in them.

“Vhenan?” she asked; although she didn’t move her head. Cullen wanted to go to her; but Orcino would use it against him. Bethany didn’t look at the Templar; although she knew that was who her Sister was asking for.

“Who is she talking about?” Orcino asked, not unkindly as girl fell back into sleep.

“Her lover, but he hasn’t shown up,” Bethany said. “I have a feeling he doesn’t love her as much as she thought he did,” There was disgust in her voice and this time she did glance at the blond man. He was slumped in the chair, and clearly looked as if he were dying with her; but she had no pity for the man as he wouldn’t even attempt to speak with her cousin with the First Enchanter there.

“Ahh, ‘tis usually the case isn’t it? We mages often love more than we should and people who don’t deserve it,” the older elf said with sympathy for the young woman.

"I can take the samples with me; see if I have anything in the Gallows that will allow me to cure this poison, but I have done all I can now,” he said. The black clad elf sighed sadly and turned to the Templar. He did notice how haggard the Knight Captain looked, how his eyes didn’t leave the dying mage. ‘ _Ah,_ ’ he thought to himself. ‘ _So that is where his mind goes,_ ’ he thought.

“Knight Captain, I will move more quickly if I do not have to stay to your pace,” he said to the younger man. He didn’t know if the man would listen and stay, but he was willing to try.

“I have my orders, First Enchanter,” was the answer; given in a deadened voice. Orcino nodded and left the room.

“You think he didn’t notice how you don’t take your eyes off her?” Bethany asked the Templar acerbically.

“What?” Cullen asked, looking up at the raven haired girl. The pure misery on his face softened her ire.

“Orcino, he noticed you wouldn’t stop watching Bronwynn,” she said. He shrugged his shoulders before standing and moving the chair so it was next to her bed.

“He will use any information he gets against me, and Meredith would use that against her; still think I’m being a bastard?” he asked her. Bethany’s eyes widened in understanding. “He can _think_ he knows that she and I are lovers, but without confirmation he can do nothing with the information,” Cullen’s blue eyes locked onto the face that kept him sane. Bethany made a sound of understanding.

“Has she said anything besides vhenan?” he asked her as she was leaving.

“Why?”

“Because my mage isn’t just too stubborn to die, Warden Hawke. She asks for me because she wants something,” he looked at his lovers friend and cousin. “Has she said anything else?”

Bethany frowned as she thought about how to answer.

“Before the poison began leaching her energy; while we were still in the Deep Roads,” she said. She lifted her robes to sit on the edge of Bronwynn’s bed and faced the Templar. He wasn’t a big man, he was only as tall as her brother; but he seemed to take up much more space. She watched hands that she knew had to have cut down mages; hands that were calloused from years of swordwork gently take her cousin’s hand.

“Yes?” he prompted.

“She said ‘ _Tell him the blue,_ ’” Bethany said. Cullen frowned. There were several things that could mean. She had four different blue notebooks, three different types of blue potions. Knowing how she felt about lyrium it wouldn’t be one of those unless it was for an antidote; but…

“Bethany, is her library here or is it still in Hightown?” he asked her. It wasn’t his book, his book was purple.

“Most of it is in Hightown, there are some here. Why?” she asked him. There was a note of hope in her voice. He sighed as his chest began to constrict painfully.

“She has four notebooks that have blue covers; those are primarily for her healing notes. If you get them you may be able to figure out which of the three blue potions she has that are the antidote,” he kept his hands from clenching on hers as he saw her breathing become even more shallow than it had been a moment before.

“How do you know that?” Bethany asked him as she went to the bellpull.

“I have been her Templar since she was nineteen,” he said simply. As if that were all the explanation that was needed. A young Warden appeared, worry in his eyes and half out of breath.

“Beth?” he asked, Cullen could hear tears in the boy’s voice.

“Not yet, Mathew. We have hope now. Send someone to Hightown to her library, have them get the blue notebooks that they find there. Search her section of the library here for any blue notebooks as well; her Templar says these are her healing books. Between all of us we should be able to use her information on the Darkspawn to find a cure,” Bethany nodded as the young man seemed to grow taller with the ability to act; to do _something_.

“How many men here are in love with my mage,” Cullen asked with humor.

“Not that many,” Bethany said with a small chuckle. “Your mage?” Bethany asked. Again he spared a short glance for the young girl.

“Aye. She’s been mine since we met,” he grinned with remembrance. Neither noticed the blue-green light that was surrounding both him and Bronwynn.

“She hasn’t told me much,” Bethany said. She wanted to hear the story. She wanted to know as much about her cousin as possible. This sister of her heart was often sad; and Bethany was sure this man may have been responsible for some of it, but not all.

“I was called from my Chantry at Honnleath to go to the Circle of Fereldan,” there was some bitterness in his voice. “The Knight Commander there made me the sole body-guard of one Bronwynn Amell. The most powerful mage in the Circle,” he laughed softly.

“Most like the most arrogant as well,” Bethany laughed with him. He nodded.

“It took time for me to see it, at first I thought it was an act,” he smiled and looked back at the youngest Hawke. “She deserved most of her attitude. She really is quite intelligent.” Bethany nodded her agreement.

“Innovative as well,” He nodded his agreement.

“She hates maleficarum,” he said and shook his head. “The Circle leaders blamed her for their abuse of her because of that. It angered me to no end,” and she could hear the echo of that anger. “She developed a way to take away the magic of any mage she could prove to be a maleficarum; without making them Tranquil,” he sighed as he thought about the enemies that had bought her. Bethany gasped in surprise.

“That must have been popular,” she said with sarcasm. He laughed. This girl had a similar humor to his mage.

“Oh yes, quite,” Cullen said with his own sarcasm.

“I loved her the moment she called me _Templar_ ,” he said; and Bethany could hear her cousin’s voice in the way he repeated it.

“I bet you called her _Mage_ in return,” Bethany said; a small laugh in her voice. The blond man nodded.

“We will save her, Cullen,” Bethany said as she saw a silver-blue tear roll down his cheek.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Warden,” he responded. Bethany laughed at that. He looked at her with a frown.

“Knight Captain, she has held on for this long because she isn’t ready to go. Don’t you dare give up on her now,” Bethany said with compassion and steel. “You’ve given me an answer, and hope. We will save her,” she reached out and patted his armor covered shoulder before leaving the room and allowing him to be alone with his mage.

* * *

* * *

Three more days had passed; he had sent word to Meredith that as of yet the mage had not turned. Orsino had returned with what he thought would help against the poison. Although it did help her breathing become deeper it didn’t actually cure the poison. Orsino admitted he was lost as to how he could help more and left, this time he didn’t see the Templar in the girls room. He was disappointed, he had wanted to think this Templar might be human.

Bethany and the other mages that were at the outpost spent all three days going through the books and testing each potion. While they were excited to learn several new ways to make healing potions and poultices it seemed as if they weren’t any closer to finding the cure.

Cullen had only left her room to bathe and change when Orsino had come. Now he wore clothes that were clearly his; if old. He took Bronwynn’s hand in his and began reciting the Chant softly as he prayed.

“Vhenan?” he heard her say and looked up quickly. Her green eyes were still feverish but he answered.

“Yes!”

“Ask knowledge; she can help if you let her,” she took a deep breath. He could hear it rattle in her chest.

“Bron, please, don’t speak,” he tried to make her stop talking but she shook her head.

“Knowledge can tell you where the blue one is,” she said and then she fell back into unconsciousness.

“Damn!” he exclaimed softly. He pulled on the bellpull and asked the servant to ask Bethany to come to the room.

As he waited he paced around the small room, the bed took up most of the space; another bed that looked exactly like theirs had in the Tower. She really had missed him.

He hadn’t even tried; he realized. He hadn’t even tried to find out if she was okay. He had blamed her for all of it. Even for her being assigned to fight the Blight. Maker he really didn’t deserve her.

Bethany was silent as she entered the room and saw the man kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed.

“Andraste please, if I can have just one more hour to tell her; please,” she heard him beg and her heart broke for the man.

“Cullen?” she said softly. He turned to look at her, his blue eyes pale with despair.

“She is delirious,” he said as he stood to face her. “But she said something else and I thought you should know,” he sat down on the foot of the bed, his hand automatically reaching for her ankle under the covers.

“What was it?”

“‘ _Knowledge_ _can tell you where the blue one is_ ’,” he repeated. Her eyes widened with understanding.

“What?” he demanded. “What did it mean?”

“A spirit of knowledge,” she said in awe. Then she smiled broadly and hugged the Templar tightly.

“She only trusted you! That was why she wanted you, Cullen! She trusts _you_ to trust her!” she kissed him on the cheek before running out the door shouting for Mathew. He turned his blue eyes back to his mage and sighed.

“Andraste, my love; what did I do to earn your love?” he asked. He thought he heard a voice say ‘ _you made it normal_ ’ but wasn’t sure. He watched her sleeping for another moment before sitting beside her again.

“If there is a spirit of knowledge around, that hasn’t tried to take over my mage; help those trying to help her - please? I need her,” he whispered. He thought he felt a hand on his shoulder; but there was no one in the room with him.

* * *

It took another three days for the Warden mages to find  _the blue one_ ; but find it they did. A fifth book she had been using but hadn’t put where it was easily found. In it there were extensive instructions on how to cure poisons that were blight related.

Two days later Cullen held Bronwynn’s head while Bethany tipped a small bottle with a stormy ocean blue potion inside it into her mouth.

They both held their breaths as she swallowed automatically. They watched as the potion made it’s way through her body; they could actually trace the flow through her arteries as the potion began it’s work.

She opened her green eyes and found Cullen’s blue staring intently at her. She reached up and caressed his cheek.

“Vhenan, when did you last sleep?” she asked him hoarsely. He and Bethany laughed almost hysterically.

“I got a few hours this morning,” he answered, his voice rough with unshed tears.

“You can’t take care of me if you don’t take care of yourself, you know,” she replied before stretching and yawning. When she shook her head to clear it of the sleep she remembered what had happened.

“Oh!” she said with sadness. “I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to frighten you!” She tried sitting up to face him.

Cullen took her hands in his and moved so he was beside her.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Cullen said. There was no anger in his eyes. Bronwynn smiled hopefully.

“You’re not angry with me?” she asked and he laughed sardonically.

“I am upset that you refuse to use lyrium to boost your energy when you’re low; but otherwise, my love-no” he said. She grinned sheepishly at him before she realized they had company.

“Beth?” She said in confusion.

“You scared me,” Bethany said softly. “Next time you want to tell someone to talk to a spirit, just tell me” she said. Bronwynn frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“You wouldn’t talk to anyone other than Cullen,” Bethany said, nodding to the Templar, who had not let go of his mage’s hands.

“I am confused,” Bronwynn sad. The two laughed and told her not to worry about it.

“I think you should actually sleep,” Cullen said when his mage tried to sit up again.

“Umm, I kind of need to go pee,” she said to him. Bethany laughed at his consternated look and moved to the door.

“I’ll let everyone know you’re awake. They are going to want to see you; well most are going to want to see you,” she said with her normal humor.

“Not until I’ve bathed!” Bronwynn croaked.

“I’ll leave you in your Templar’s tender care,” Bethany said with a laugh walking out the door. She wasn’t sure if all would be well; but her cousin was alive and awake. That was a start.

* * *

* * *

-“You frightened me, as well,” Cullen said as he helped her dry off in front of the fire he’d built up as she bathed. They could hear the clamouring of the Wardens as they tried to ask Bethany a thousand questions at once.

“I’m sorry, vhenan,” she said, leaning her head back against his chest as he wrapped the linen around her to keep her warm. He took a deep breath and sat down in another overstuffed chair by the fire; pulling her into his lap. She was even smaller now than she had been before.

“Don’t you eat?” he asked gruffly. She looked down at herself.

“Why?” she asked.

“You’re too thin,” he said, she looked at him in confusion. “I know you have just healed from a major illness, my love; but you’re thinner than you should be even from that,” he tucked her head under his chin while he held her closer to his warmth.

“I can’t lose you,” he said softly. She sighed and relaxed into him.

“I am here, I am not ready to leave you,” she said sleepily. He laughed at the statement.

“That poison was killing you by inches,” he said with mixed emotions. Partial fear, regret and even anger. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“I had no idea I had taken the injury,” she said quietly. “Not until the fighting was done,” she shivered.

“The pain was unbelievable,” she murmured. He was rubbing her arm.

“I don’t even want to think about it,” he said with such vehemence it made her laugh.

“I just wanted you,” she continued.

“I was ordered by the Knight Commander to come and kill the maleficar who had summoned a demon,” he said with a disdainful sniff.

“You didn’t come here to kill me?” she asked with a smile in her voice. He laughed.

“My love,” he tipped her head up so she could see his eyes. “When she said that Warden Amell, the darling mage of the Wardens had taken injury and was slowly dying all I could think was that I hadn’t actually told you,” he hesitated. “Anything,” he finished.

“I don’t expect you to tell me if you aren’t ready,” she said, and she meant it.

“I am still not ready to talk about the Circle,” his voice was thick with pain and anger; but she heard a difference in it now.

“I know,” she laid her hand on his cheek. “I want to you to tell me, but I know it takes time to heal,” she gave him a sad smile.

“I just want you to remember I wasn’t there; I didn’t do it,” she said softly. He put his forehead against hers and sighed.

“The-they used my thoughts against me, my love.” She shivered as she thought about that. “I knew _you_ wouldn’t do the things they made me think; but it was _you_ they used most,” she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, burrowing closer to him. “Knowing you weren’t what they tried to make me believe kept me from giving in,” He swallowed hard, felt the tears building behind his eyes and this time let them fall.

“My heart knows you weren’t responsible; my head is having trouble accepting it,” he said. “Maker knows I love you. I just don’t know how easy it will be for me to forgive mages for what happened,” he admitted.

“I am happy to hear you still love me,” she whispered to him. He laughed softly.

“I never stopped,” he told her; he felt her body relax into his and knew she had fallen back asleep. He knew he should put her back in her bed; but he didn’t want to relinquish his hold just yet.

Bethany came quietly into the room with several servants. She saw that the two of them were sleeping in the chair by the fire and urged the servants to be quiet as they changed the bedding.

When another set of servants came it with trays of food she shook her head. It was unlikely Bronwynn would be able to eat much of that; but she didn’t tell them to take it back. They had worried about her as well.

She watched her cousin and the man she loved sleeping for a while; waiting until the servants had left before waking them.

Cullen started when she lightly touched his shoulder, if his arms had not been holding Bronwynn she thought he would have tried to draw on her. As it was he tightened his grip on Bronwynn, making as if to twist to move her.

“Cullen, there is food if she can eat,” Bethany said gently. When his eyes cleared from their sleep he nodded and mumbled a thank you. Bethany left once more, grinning to herself at the sight they had made.

She once again headed off any of the other Wardens who wanted to bombard the mage with their presence.

“She was just sleeping; let her actually rest for at least a few hours!” she demanded with acid laced humor. Even the one’s who didn’t like her wanted to see her. They finally all calmed down and headed off to their other duties or to their own beds.

* * *

Bronwynn looked at the food in front of her and wondered how she was going to eat any of it. Cullen put a bowl of soup in front of her and then stared hard at her. She grinned sheepishly and began to slowly spoon it into her mouth.

He tore off pieces of the fresh bread and handed it to her to eat as she basically drank the broth from the soup. While she ate he told her about things going on in the Circle. She laughed at some of the antics the new recruits would get into; so many of them were simply lost when it came to sword work.

Bronwynn let him talk; simply soaking up the sound of his voice. She watched him eat in between his stories and laughed when he ate one of the Orlesian cheese dishes.

“You are being very quiet, my love,” he said after drinking some wine to clear his throat.

“I missed hearing you talk,” she said as she smiled at him. He laughed.

“My voice isn’t that nice,” he said; not knowing how the rumble of his tenor voice made her shiver.

“It is to me,” she responded before yawning widely. They both laughed.

“I have to get back to the Gallows,” he said with regret.

“I know,” she answered.

“The next time I see you, mage mine; I expect you to have put on at least five pounds. I don’t want to be able to count your ribs,” he said with mock severity.

“Promise you’ll come see me before the year is out?” she asked, and although she hated the whine in her voice she didn’t try to hide it. The argument had been needed; but not seeing him for three months had hurt.

“I promise,” he said before kissing her on her forehead. He then picked her up and took her to her bed. He felt her fingers grip his shirt before letting him go and he kissed her softly on the lips.

“I will come see you in two weeks, my love, I swear,” he whispered against her mouth and she swallowed and nodded. He watched her fall asleep again and left to get his armor. He picked up his breastplate and shook his head before putting it back down.

Cullen removed his clothing and crawled into the bed next to his mage. Meredith be damned; she really was more important to him than his duty tonight.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me so long to update, I promise I'll try to get the rest up before the end of next week.

Chapter 25

**Dragon 9:38**

Late Winter

Garrett Hawke strode through the Viscount's public foyer followed by Fenris, Merrill and  Varric. They turned to the right as they moved up the stairs and made their way to the guard barracks; Varric seeming to soak up the information that flowed as they moved through the nobles.

Garrett did his best to avoid the Viscount as much as possible; it seemed the man blamed Hawke for his son being having made friends with the Qunari. Hawke had managed to rescue the boy from the mercenary band that was supposed to ‘save’ him. Hawke had taken out the merc band; although truthfully he only did so because they attacked him and his friends in an attempt to keep Saemus from going back with anyone else.

His being called into the Viscount’s office the year before had been awkward enough. He had been grateful when the man had focused on the problem at hand with the Qunari.

Now that had been a mess. The elf woman finding a way to blame Jarvis for the theft and then using it in lowtown to kill an entire block of people. Having to kill all those poor souls who had gone mad from the poison had made Hawke want to kill the Arishok for allowing this thief to take the chemical formula.

After that, he had to deal with Feynriel again. He made the decision to make the boy Tranquil; not because he thought it would be kinder. The boy was becoming a danger to those around him and as much as it had pained Hawke he couldn’t let someone with that kind of power run amok. Hawke had found it disturbingly amusing to know the woman he loved would rather have a boat than be with him; that one of his best friends would take whatever means available to destroy his former master and that another of his friends would actually fall prey to a demon’s promise after all she swore.

Varric said he just found it disturbing.

Aveline was waiting for them as they came to her office; she was nervous about something and got very mysterious as she asked Hawke to deliver a message to another of the Guardsman.

Hawke was certain she was trying to make a fool of him until he figured out she wanted the man. Hawke just shook his head and suggested a simple drink would break the ice.

Then he is called back to the Viscount’s office. His day was getting longer.

“The delegates the Arishok sent to discuss ways of mitigating trouble are missing, from leaving my office to the doors of the keep they are gone, just vanished!” he sighed and ran his hand over his gray and balding head.

“I find I can trust none of my usual people to look into this, Serrah Hawke. Besides that fact, you also have a better understanding of the Qunari than most do,” the older man finished with a frustrated sigh.

“What information do you have?” Hawke asked him, keeping his own frustration in check.

“Talk to my seneschal; he can give you the pertinent details,” Viscount Dumar said, waving his dismissal of Garrett. He, Fenris, Merrill and Varric strolled out of the office to find Seneschal Bran waiting for them. Hawke asked him very politely if his head was paining him; seeing as he had a look of disgust on his face.

“My head is fine,” the man said disdainfully. Hawke gave him his most engaging grin.

“The Viscount said you had information for me,” Hawke said with good humor; this apparently upset the Seneschal even more.

“I would prefer you weren’t involved at all,” the young man said with a sniff. “But as the Viscount has a concern I will tell you what I can.”

Hawke felt sure the man would drown if he ever left the keep during a rainstorm. The information he had was scarce; but there was enough there to figure out that someone had to have paid the a guardsman to look the other way.

Hawke almost wanted to ask the man if he had donated the funds; but knew this man-however much he may personally hate the Qunari-would do nothing to cause harm to the city. Meredith might actually blame him if that happened.

“Where you would go to find someone willing to sell his honor, I’m sure I don’t know,” Bran said with a sneer. Once again Hawke wondered how much he had to pay the Blooming Rose to service him.

“The Hanged Man,” Varric said.

“The Hanged Man,” Fenris concurred.

“Where else?” Merrill asked with her own brand of sarcasm. Hawke smiled when the Seneschal seemed to stiffen up with his disgust.

“There you have it,” he said. “Please don’t disturb me again unless you have actual news.” Hawke turned with false cheer and headed out of the keep, hooking a hand through Fenris’ armor to drag him along. The ex-slave had very little patience for anyone who thought they were above him.

The four of them decided to head to their respective homes for the time being; they wouldn’t find anyone at the tavern until the sun went down anyway.

* * *

* * *

Stroud watched Bronwynn as she went through training with the newest group of mages. He had gone through a training exercise with the non-mages and he almost pitied the mages. Bronwynn was a hard taskmaster; but he had to admit that the mages she trained were far more reliable and confident in their abilities than any other mage he knew.

She brooked no excuses for anything. She had caught several younger mages practicing blood magic. When they tried to say it was in an effort to match her strength he thought she would kill them.

What she did do frightened him even more.

“Enough for today, you’ve done well; all of you,” she nodded as she dismissed them. He could see a respect for her amongst the mages, even if it was mixed with their fear of her. She was powerful, composed and usually in control. She was also capable of seeing things many of them didn’t want her to know. She made it clear that blood magic was a useless tool.

“I don’t care if Wardens have used it in the past; using your own blood weakens you and makes it harder for you to use the magic you’re calling on; using another’s blood - even if volunteered- won’t give you the power you’re looking for,” he had heard her saying to a group of new recruits who had asked why she was against it when the Wardens would permit it. “Energy is abundant in the world around you; and I will teach you ways to pull that energy into yourself in various manners so you don’t have to rely on either lyrium or blood magic,” she had then shown them exactly that.

Stroud had noticed that the mages she trained were more powerful after working with her, also more disciplined. He wasn’t sure why she hated blood magic so much but he couldn’t argue the results. He knew in his bones she would never fall prey to a demon.

He watched the sister of his heart move through the crowd of mages as they began clumping in groups to discuss their lessons, she smiled indulgently at many of them as she moved with purpose through them.

She had a smile on her face that he only saw when she was going to meet her Templar.

“Warden Amell,” he called with regret. He hated doing anything that removed the smile from her face.

“Aye, Warden Stroud,” she answered with a small sigh and a smaller smile.

“I need you to head into town; there is a Seeker wishing to talk to you,” he told her. She gave him an even more engaging grin. He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“So now I have an excuse to go into town?” she laughingly asked. He laughed with her in response.

“Bronwynn, my friend, if you wish to prance naked around town I would not object,” he replied, causing her to laugh harder.

“As if you even look at me like that!” she said before kissing his cheek. When she left thirty minutes later on the Courser she had been given, she was in her leather armor. One wouldn’t know she was a mage since she didn’t carry an obvious staff. He shook his head as she waved farewell; he hoped she stayed safe with all the trouble in Kirkwall right now.

Bronwynn let Arrow Basher have his head when they reached the plains outside of Kirkwall. She kept a wary eye out for bandits, but otherwise let herself enjoy the freedom the gallop gave her. She wasn’t looking forward to talking to any Seeker; but she would deal with this person since it meant she’d be able to see Cullen.

The last year had been better for them both. He still hadn’t told her what happened in Ferelden, but he was opening up about other things. She knew he never wanted to appear weak in her eyes; and all she could do was simply show him how strong she thought he was. She knew he was taking less lyrium, and she was doing what she could to heal the damage the lyrium had already caused him.

She also made sure he didn’t know she was doing it; stubborn Templar would likely get angry at her for wanting him to be able to remember their few nights and days together. She would think he was ashamed to be seen with his mage if it weren’t for the fact that he often took her to any number of parties he had to attend as the Knight Captain. It was well known she was a Warden mage and it was very clear they were lovers.

They only got caught the once in the Viscount’s garden, though. Of course it was by that Dalish friend of Hawke’s; so maybe she didn’t count.

Arrow Basher whinnied as they came upon the guard tower just before she reached the outskirts of Lowtown. She waved and smiled at the guards manning the tower as she walked the chestnut and blond haired animal through the arch. She had learned to ignore the paintings that lined the inside walls as well as the sculptures that lined the crenelation. The images were disturbing and she hated the feelings of both hopelessness and helplessness they evoked in her.

The route she took to get to the estate in Hightown led her around towards the docks; longer than through town but she was wary of too many people thinking she’d be an easy mark. She also didn’t like putting Arrow Basher at risk needlessly. He was a warhorse, not a parade horse and he wasn’t above stepping on feet that got too close. She also didn’t want to give anyone a chance to hurt him. She really loved this stallion.

She took her time getting to the estate, using the ride as an excuse to check out the shops along the way; also making sure no one was following her. It didn’t take her long to notice there were a few Carta members trailing along behind her. They were almost good enough to keep her from seeing them; and if she weren’t as paranoid she would have missed them. It took nothing at all for her to cast a simple spell to redirect their attention and then another simple glamour to hide herself and the horse. She then made sure to get off the main thoroughfare and made her way to the estate. She kept a watchful eye out still; but found no others following.

The elf that was in charge of the stables at the estate smiled when he saw them coming in.

“Arrow Basher! How are ye my boy?” he asked with glee. His accent gave away his birth city-state as Starkhaven; although his borough wasn’t nearly as thick as some she’d heard recently.  

“I think he’d rather see you than me,” Bronwynn said with a smile; the old elf was always happy to see the horse. He took good care of the Warden mounts even though he was getting a little long in the tooth to be working.

“Aye and glad it is I am to be seeing ‘im,” the elf replied with a grin as he helped the lady Warden dismount. The stallion head butted her when she moved in front of him causing both the human and the elf to laugh as she pulled out a couple of carrots for the horse.

“M’lady Warden, there’s a mort of folk been comin’ roun’ askin’ ‘bout you,” he told her as he began taking off the horse's tack while she gave him his treat.

“Any idea who they are?” she asked. He nodded but shrugged and Bronwyn hid her smile at his pretense. “Well, Ouron?” she asked him as if he were holding back the world’s secrets. He knew she knew he didn’t have a clue; but she never made him feel less than she was.

“They have armor with hairy eyeballs,” he said in a conspiratorial whisper. Her eyes widened with humor.

“You mean a sun with rays?” she asked him on a laugh. He snorted.

“Looks like an open eye wi’ ‘air growing out of it ta me.” He declared as if offended, but grinned and winked at her to show he took the ribbing well. She leaned down to hug the old man and laughingly went into the house to try and bathe. She knew Cullen wouldn’t care, but she didn’t want to smell like horse and sweat when he got there.

“Milady Amell,” the butler said as she walked through the house, she sighed and turned to him, giving the human a smile.

“Yes Loudon?”

“There is a … person here to see you,” the pause was infinitesimal; but she heard it. He was not happy that this person was here.

“And does this person have a name?” She asked him. His eyes almost crossed as he was now forced to speak further about this person, Bronwynn almost laughed aloud.

“Seeker Pentaghast,” he replied, and if he had been less of a butler one would have been sure to hear the complete and utter disdain for such a creature.

“Loudon, aren’t _you_ a Pentaghast?” Bronwynn asked with confusion.

“Yes, Milady; merely two hundred and tenth in line for the throne however,” he said. Once more Bronwynn had to keep from laughing aloud.

“So this Seeker Pentaghast is lower in line than you?” she asked with true curiosity.

“No, Milady. She is seventy-eighth in line; she should _not_ be a Seeker,” he said. There was a subtle emphasis on this and shocked the mage.

“Loudon, you’re a snob?” she asked incredulously. His brown eyes widened in dismay with the question.

“Milady, I-I did not mean to imply,” he stuttered. Bronwynn placed a hand on his arm to calm him.

“My apologies, Loudon. I better than anyone should know not to judge. I was simply shocked and forgot how important lineage is to Nevarrans,” she said contritely. He breathed deeply and relaxed slightly when he realized she wasn’t going to chastise him.

“The Seeker is in the Morning room, Milady,” he intoned with his normal dignity. She nodded and strode to that august room. This room was two stories high with an intricately inlaid balustrade along the upper floor the came into the main room only half way. The design had been changed after by Bronwynn to something more appropriate for Wardens than Tevinter; meaning swooping griffins and charging horses. Whenever she looked at the griffins on the wing she smiled and thought of one of Alistair’s  statements. ‘ _Swooping is bad_ ’ he would say; usually when he was in his cups and there was talk of Archdemons or blood mages. The room was quite light and airy despite the heaviness of the furniture and draperies. There were no stairs to the upper half floor in this room, it was only accessible through Bronwynn’s private quarters. There was a dumbwaiter, however. That way the servants didn’t have to walk up stairs when someone was up there. Bronwynn had turned that part of the Morning room into a type of reading nook; there was even a small fountain lit from within with pebbles charged with magelight. Other than when she and Cullen were relaxing up there; this room was only ever used for formal meetings with the nobility; and now apparently the Right Hand of the Divine.

“What do you think she will have to say, Seeker Pentaghast?” Bronwynn heard a deep voice asking as she quietly entered the over large room. She could see four people wearing the blackened armor of the Seekers in the room near the fireplace.

The woman was of average height, slightly taller than Bronwynn herself. She had black hair that was held down with a plait around her head. She had a narrow oval face that Bronwynn thought looked kind despite the scar on her chin.

The man with the deep voice was about her height and so blond his hair was white. From where she stood she could see the man’s right arm was mangled to the point of uselessness; and she would bet he was in severe pain. The other two were much younger, although they were both a full head taller than both the woman and the man. They wore their armor like it was still new and they weren’t sure it was real. She could feel the two of them working at suppressing magic; wasting energy.

“I am sure I don’t know, Donovan. Perhaps she will give us the answer to the meaning of life,” from the sound of the woman’s voice she had answered this question repeatedly.

“I believe the answer is forty-two,” Bronwynn said with a smile as she neared the group of Seekers. That none of them had noticed her was clear when all but the woman jumped; she dropped her hand to her sword. Bronwynn simply smiled at the group before waving to a bell on one of the tables. The disconcerted looks on the younger Seeker’s faces was priceless.

“How do you come to that conclusion?” The woman asked as she waved the other three to another part of the room.  

“Knight Captain Marline once told me this was the only answer that made sense,” she said with a friendly smile. The door to the room opened and a female elf stepped in and bowed to Bronwynn.

“Arla, please bring refreshments for our guests. I am sure they are parched after having waited so long for me,” she asked the servant. Cassandra noticed the servant seemed relaxed and even happy to serve this particular Warden mage.

“You don’t even know how long we were waiting,” Cassandra said with curiosity. Bronwynn shook her head to show she didn’t.

“Yet manners dictate I should make sure you are not starving or dehydrated since you did have to wait,” she gave the Seeker another smile; and this time Cassandra could see it had not reached her eyes. She decided to see if the girl was using magic and found she could not tell. She was very polite about her distrust, however.

“Manners for strangers?” The Nevarran Seeker asked and this time Bronwynn laughed with real delight.

“Seeker, I know you are here to question me about something, and I see no reason why we cannot be comfortable while you do so,”  the mage said; her leather armor creaking as she sat back in the sofa.

“You make it sound as if this is going to be an interrogation,” Cassandra said; and Bronwynn could hear amusement in the woman’s voice and thought that was good, because her tone was very brusque otherwise.

“If you are anything like your counterpart; Sister Nightingale, then I imagine it will be,” Bronwynn shook her red head at the look of surprise on the Seeker’s face. “Never fear, Milady Seeker, she left me with no injuries,” Bronwynn said with a tinkling laugh. Several servants entered then, bearing several trays for the group; making sure the men were well fed.

Only Bronwynn noticed that one of those trays went to the second floor of the room; meaning that her lover had arrived before she had, and the servants knew it. Bronwynn knew from experience that when one was in the upstairs part of the room; everything being said in the downstairs portion could be heard quite clearly; but unless the person upstairs made it a point to be heard, they wouldn’t be noticed.

Cullen had heard the butler show the Seekers into the Morning room. He had chuckled when the man had announced that ‘Milady Warden Amell’ was due within the hour. He had then proceeded to ignore the guests. He had thought about ordering refreshments for them himself until he had heard the conversation they were having. Well, it sounded more like a one sided argument.

When Bronwynn had finally arrived he was almost disappointed since he felt certain that Seeker Pentaghast was about to do physical harm to the older Seeker; who seemed to think that the woman had some sort of ability to know exactly what was going on at any given time in someone else’s mind.

Hearing Bronwynn quote their old Knight Captain Marline made him chuckle. Remembering that made him think a little less hatefully of the place; and also made him remember what had prompted the older man to spout off the quip.

That mage hadn’t questioned his elders quite that way again. For once, in several years, he felt saddened by the loss of a mage. Niall had tried to save as many people as he could. The sloth demon had been too powerful for him.

Lost as he was in his memories, he almost missed the loaded question the Seeker had sent at his mage.

“You are seen often in the company of a Templar, Warden. Should we suppose that is where you do get your information on the happenings inside the Circle?” Bronwynn chuckled.

“I assure you, Seeker; when the Templar and I do talk, it is rarely about the mages inside the Gallows.

“What do you discuss then?”

“Usually intimate things, Seeker,” Bronwynn said with warning. He heard the other woman sigh with ill concealed frustration.

“You dance around the subject, Warden. What do you know of the blood mages with the Kirkwall Circle?” Cassandra finally came right out and asked. He could imagine Bronwynn lying her head to her right as she gazed at the woman with amusement. A look guaranteed to annoy the Seeker. He had seen her use just such a look on several nobles who wanted to pin her down to a political commitment. He didn’t know where she’d learned it; but he was grateful she hadn’t used it on him.

“Forgive me, Seeker. I did not realize my voice mattered in this,” she said after the moment stretched out a little too long and the Seeker shifted in her seat.

“You are a mage,” the dark haired Seeker said; as if that were all his mage were.

“Yes, but I am first and foremost a _Warden_ ,” Bronwynn said with emphasis.

“Meaning what?”

“We Wardens will not take part in the coming conflict, Seeker. We have no stake in it,” Bronwynn said. It was the first definitive thing Cullen had heard her say about the Wardens and the political nightmare that the Mage/Templar debate had become.

“You’re saying that Warden mages will not fight with any Mages who go rogue?” One of the younger male Seekers demanded. Cullen heard the slow creek of Bronwynn’s leathers as she turned to face the young man. She herself was only seven and twenty but Cullen knew those young men were barely in their twenties. She had seen far more in her life than they had yet to see in theirs. He could well imagine the implacable look she used to pierce the young hothead.

“Politicking; young Seeker, is a game you would do well to learn. It is; unfortunately, a game that must be played no matter what road you walk through life,” there was a coldness in her voice that Cullen had never heard before.

“We Wardens play this game very well, indeed. We have no choice. Our aim; when there is a Blight, is to end that Blight as quickly as we possibly can with as few casualties as we can possibly manage,” Cullen moved so he could see below him. He wanted to see the look on her face. He hadn’t ever asked her about her mission with the Wardens, being as he was still angry with them for taking her from him. He was even able to admit now he was angry with her for choosing to join them.

“When there is no Blight and the world has given us what they feel is more than our due, we have to play a very cautious game. We want to be able to build our numbers; we want to be able to put multiple outposts within any one country; we want to be able get resources at a reasonable price, not at a premium. We also want to get as much information as we can on the Blights themselves,” she had stood to face the three men, and she stood her full five foot three inches in height. It wasn’t normally an impressive sight; but now she seemed to expand upwards; growing another six feet. Her voice was deeper, more assured and infinitely more confident. She looked the young man in the eye and never raised her voice but even Cullen could feel the power emanating from her. Caged; dormant yet far more powerful than anything he’d ever experienced.

“Our goal, our only goal, Seeker; is to end the Blights. Permanently.” She turned to face Seeker Pentaghast.

“We will do almost anything to that end,” she said as she nodded to the woman. “But we cannot do that if we get embroiled in a war that has nothing to do with us. We aren’t neutral, Seeker. In that you are correct,” she shrugged and sat back down, the feeling of overwhelming power receding as if it had never been.

“But you will not take sides?”

“Seeker, we don’t care,” Bronwynn said with feeling. “I personally wouldn’t choose to fight the Templars because it’s a pointless thing to do. Neither side can win; they are too evenly matched. The mages aren’t truly trained to fight and the Templars, for the most part, aren’t capable of fighting any mage that is talented enough to fight!” she gave a gallic shrug.

“I’m the wrong person to ask about what’s going on in the Circle, anyway,” she finished. “I only go to the Gallows when I need something I can’t find in the wild,” she sat back and lifted her cup to her lips.

Cassandra sighed and rose and began to pace.

“We have found so many instances of blood magic-” one of the younger Seekers seemed to snort; and Bronwynn echoed the sound.

“We Wardens get about five ‘ _escapees_ ’ a week from the Gallows; and of the one’s we’ve taken in to train, only three of them were truly blood  mages,” again she shrugged.

“You can’t be sure,” Cassandra started to say and Bronwynn laughed.

“You _can’t_ ,” she repeated and Bronwynn shook  her head.

“Did you not speak with Sister Nightingale?” she asked her visitor.

“Aye, she said some very - are you saying you really can determine who is a blood mage and who isn’t?” Cassandra asked incredulously.

“I can, and I could possibly teach you the same thing,” Bronwynn answered.

“Then why not teach Meredith?” Cassandra demanded.

“I offered.”

“She knows how?” Cassandra demanded, only to look confused when Bronwynn shook her head.

“I am a mage, Seeker. She wouldn’t trust me to teach her anything. She fears magic; unreasonably so,’ Bronwynn said.

“What about the First Enchanter? Orsino?” The white haired Seeker asked with suspicion. Bronwynn shook her head sadly.

“The First Enchanter didn’t know I was offering to teach a new ability; at first,” Bronwynn looked up and caught Cullen’s eyes; he saw the corners of her eyes crinkle in a smile; although her lips didn’t stretch into one.

“Meredith came to see me last year when she realized her mages were joining the Wardens. She went to the estate we have outside of town and made threats she would never be able to back up,” Here Bronwynn looked back at Seeker Pentaghast.

“Stroud let her know we only take the best, and then he told her about my …,” she smiled as she thought of a word that fit. “Disdain,” she finally said. “For blood magic and blood mages. She refused to believe I could tell at first. When she finally did accept that I could, I offered to teach her,” Cassandra frowned and interrupted.

“You said you could try and teach me, why just try?”

“I know mages can see aura’s , Seeker. I also know Templars can; when given the right instruction. As for what Seekers can do? I am not sure how you get your gifts, Seeker; I would be unable to tell you if you can. If you’re willing to try, I am willing to teach you,” she said. There was an earnestness in her voice that drew all four seekers in. She clearly desired to teach this skill; she wanted others to know.

Cullen smiled as he watched his love light up with her explanation to the Seekers, her questions were far more insightful than the Seekers were comfortable with; especially since they weren’t sure exactly how their vigil gave them their gifts. That she was able to teach them how to see a person’s aura, and even the basics of reading one showed just how good a teacher she was.

The four left after another hour, he had moved back to the seating near the back of the room to finish reading the reports he had brought with him.

“Warden, you have said your order will not fight with the mages or the Templars, how about you?” He heard the white haired Seeker ask Bronwynn. He could hear the sad smile in her voice when she answered.

“Seeker, I have only known _one_ Templar who truly treated me as an equal. Indeed who treated all mages as equal. I have also known only _one_ mage who treated those around her as an equal, including Templars,” there was a short pause.

“I would not follow any mage that decided to go to war for a peace we already have, Seeker; nor would I follow any Templar who left the Order for the same reason. The Chantry has many failings; but I know the Divine does not want this conflict that is coming. It is, I fear, unavoidable,” she said. Cullen stilled as she spoke, wondering if she were correct. He had begun to see there were far too many injustices within the Kirkwall Circle; not that he could mitigate all of them. Meredith often kept him out of the loop on many of her decisions.

Silence had fallen below while he thought; and he looked up at the door into Bronwynn’s room just as she opened it. The smile she gave him lightened his heart. There were still many troubles between them; but she loved him and for that he thanked the Maker daily.

 


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

Cullen raised his blond head from the pillow and turned onto his right side and propped his head on his hand. His red haired beauty was sleeping on her stomach, stretched out as far as she could with him in bed with her. He cherished these moments, the ability to watch her sleep in the wee hours of the morning. Tonight there was a full moon and it shone through the windows of her chambers as bright as a room full of candles. He could see her clearly.

His mouth stretched into a salacious grin as she stretched in her sleep; her right arm rising above her head and exposing her breast to his view. This was his favorite part about watching her sleep; getting to wake her up.

Cullen gently laid his right hand on her back, just between her shoulderblades; letting the warmth of her skin match his. He smiled more widely as she moaned softly and relaxed even more.

When they had been in Ferelden they had spent their nights having sex; and although he had loved her even then he could see now that it had only been sex. When they weren’t having sex they were sleeping.

Yes, he had made love to his mage this evening. He’d made her laugh when he fell into bed because he didn’t get his breeches off his left leg and slipped on the cloth.

He had laughed when she started to complain about a cramp in her right thigh when he was tasting her pussy. He’d laughed harder when she’d started lightly slapping the top of his head and trying to get away.

He felt the difference now.

They weren’t spending every second of every hour of every day together; and where he once thought he’d never be able to get enough of her - and he had thought that meant always having sex her. Now, while he still wanted to make love to her as often as possible, he was enjoying the times he could just listen to her. Her laugh, her rants, even her opinions something as unimportant as the weather. He was learning more about her now than he had in the three years they had been together constantly.

All this ran through his head as he slowly ran his hand down the middle of her bare back to where the sheet lay across her hips. He knew when the movement woke her up as her breathing changed and she smiled with delight. He moved his hand up the right side of her back until he reached her shoulder. She sighed and lay more squarely on her stomach as his calloused hand moved across her shoulders to smooth down the left side of her back. Cullen frowned slightly as he always did at the scarring on her left side. He hated that she had suffered before he got there.

When he reached her hips again he lifted his hand and slowly pulled the sheet off her body. He watched her face as he did so, enjoying the way she grinned just before she wiggled her hips for him.

He leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“Minx.” he said with humor as he squeezed the her right buttock. She opened her left eye and looked at him saucily.

“Don’t move, my heart,” he said to her. She shivered at the passion in his voice.

Cullen slowly ran his hands down her legs to her feet. As he slid  his hands back up her legs to her knees he both spread her legs apart and lifted her knees up. She automatically adjusted so she was on her elbows as he then moved so he was between her open legs.

She was expecting him to enter her so when he pressed her waist down to raise her hips higher she was confused. She gasped in pleasure; however, when he began teasing her clit with his tongue. She moaned softly as he sucked on the nubbin before lightly biting it with his teeth.

Cullen heard her moan of pleasure and felt himself get even harder. He made her make that sound. He felt her trying to move and gripped her thighs tightly.

“I said don’t move,” he growled against her pussy, feeling her shiver made him grin even more wickedly.

“Vhenan,” she pleaded as he ran his tongue up her slit to the opening of her pussy; where he delved into her with that appendage. The taste of her caused him to groan in pleasure. When she moaned again and squeezed his tongue he used the fingers of his right hand to press and roll her clit.

He’d only been tonguing her for five minutes, yet already she was flooding his mouth with her orgasm. He loved that she responded to his touch with such passion. He stopped just before her climax reached it’s zenith and lowered her back to the bed. He returned to running his hands along her back and thighs, waiting until her breathing returned to normal.

Of course she called him several unflattering names while they waited.

“I am not ready to end this so soon, my love,” he said softly. She turned her head so she could look at him.

“Is this the last time you’re going to make love to me for the rest of our lives?” she asked; there was the slight sound of panic in her voice. He laid himself along her back, allowing his engorged penis to nestle along the slit of her vagina.

“Peace, my love, I meant tonight only,” he said against her ear. She was trying to move her hips; but his weight prevented it.

“Cullen!” she half shouted at her Templar when he simply began kissing down her spine. She felt him smile against her skin as his hands moved down her sides, caressing the sides of her breasts tenderly before sliding down to her waist.

“Yes?” he asked against her spine before tracing the spot with his tongue. She groaned. “Talk to me, Bron,” he said coaxingly. “Tell me what you want,” he said as he moved down her back again.

“I want you to stop teasing,” she gasped when he nipped her left buttock; his response was to grip her hips and hold her down. He took his time spreading her thighs once more with his elbows. He then gently blew a cold stream of air against her passion swollen labia. Once more she half shouted his name and tried to raise her hips as well as push back towards him. He relented enough to press a kiss to her vagina before he moved to kissing his way down her left leg.

Bronwynn wasn’t sure why this was causing her desire to raise to fever pitch, it was just her leg. His hands had begun to trail down the outside of her legs as he kissed and licked and nipped lightly down her left leg to her foot. When he placed a barely there kiss on the arch of her left foot she moaned and tried to wiggle away from him, only to have him squeeze her calves.

“Just tell me what you want, my love,” he said before moving to do the same to her right leg; only heading up instead of down.

“I want, ah, I want you to lick my pussy,” she moaned as he reached the junction of her thighs.

“With pleasure,” he murmured as he allowed her to lift her hips. He spread her lips and flattened his tongue out as he drew a long tantalizing line from her clit to her opening. Her sigh of pleasure goaded him to do it once more and he had to force himself to stop. Her shriek of frustration was music until she forcefully pulled out of his hands and rolled to face him.

“Bronwynn,” he growled, reaching for her; only to have her shove him onto his back.

“No, no more teasing,” she said. There was a tone in her voice that gave him pause. He caught her face in his hands and made her look at him.

“You don’t like me touching you like that anymore?” he asked in all seriousness. She shook her head then nodded her head and then groaned with more frustration.

“I’m not made of glass,” she finally said and he pulled her down on top of him to kiss her. He took his time but it wasn’t gentle, or soft. He let her feel all the passion he had for her; he infused it with as much love as he could. She melted into him like she used to, before and some part of him unclenched.

“I never thought you were fragile,” he said a moment after breaking the kiss.

“Then why,” she started to ask when he interrupted her.

“But I do treasure your body. I crave your reactions to my touch, the sounds you make, every shiver,” he kissed her again, this time tenderly.

“It’s a selfish act, me being gentle with you,” he said as he traced her back with his hands before cupping her heart shaped ass and lifting her enough so he could enter her.

Which he did very slowly, and her eyes fluttered closed while she moaned in ecstasy.

“I want to take the time so I can hear you, watch you, taste you. I want to feel every breath,” he was fully inside her when he finished speaking and she was mewling with pleasure.

“I know you’re not fragile, my love” he said before rolling them over and continuing to thrust into her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders  under his arms and her legs around his hips, locking her ankles together at the small of his back.

“Maker, Cullen, please,” she mumbled with each thrust. He gripped mattress with his hands and buried his face against her neck, his breath coming heavy with his fight to control himself. He stopped moving, breathing heavily against her throat.

“Gaah! Cullen!” she shouted. “Why did you stop?” she demanded. He kissed her in answer, before rolling her over onto her stomach and lifting her hips. He spread her legs wide then slid his fingers along her slit to tease her clit; to hear her shriek in pleasure and feel her wriggle against his hand.

“Breathe, my love,” he says seconds before he slams his penis inside her. Her scream of pleasure echos through the room as she orgasms. He keeps slamming hard into her, pulling her back against himself with each forward thrust.

“Again, Bronwynn,” he demands; twisting his hips now and triggering another orgasm. He feels her pussy squeezing him; milking him and he grits he teeth to keep from coming just yet.

He changes his rhythm and holds her hips still; makes his thrusts more shallow and faster. He knows he’s hitting her pleasure center when she begins mewling with each stroke. He reaches for her hair and gently tugs to lift her up so she’s on her knees and leaning against him. He watches as her full breasts bounce slightly with his thrusts.

“Touch yourself,” he whispers in her right ear. She moans and slides her own long fingers into the apex of her pussy. “Circle your clit, my mage,” he orders. The walls of her pussy clench even harder on the head of his dick as she does as she’s told. A long, low moan of pained pleasure pours out of her. He gently bites her earlobe and gasps ‘again’ as he  fights his urges. Her third orgasm rips another scream from her, and she begins pleading with him.

“What do you want, Bronwynn?” he asks her, breathing more heavily now.

“I - I -I want to feel you come inside me, please,” she begs. He bends her forward again, holding her hips in a bruising grip this time and begins to pound into her with abandon.

When her fourth orgasm rocks her he join her as they fly off the edge of oblivion.

 

Dawn was breaking when he awoke again; this time after his mage.

Bronwynn was between his legs, body curled over her knees as she slowly and lovingly swallowed his dick. He groaned when her tongue swirled around the head of his penis before she lowered her mouth to take him all the way in her mouth. The fingers of one of her hands gently squeezing his testicles as her tongue traced the vein on the underside of his dick.

Cullen reached for her; intending to tangle his fingers in her hair, only to discover his hands were bound to the sides of the bed.

“Wha-?” he said with a question, that ended in a moan of pleasure when she raised her head again, using a slight suction with her mouth. After that he couldn’t think straight enough to question her as with a slight scrape of her teeth and an interesting twist of her tongue she kept his mind on the pleasure she was giving him.

“Bronw- aah!” he shouted as his hips involuntarily came off the bed to thrust hard into her mouth with the force of his orgasm. When the haze of pleasure cleared he realized his ankles were also bound to the bed.

“Bronwynn, my heart, what is going on?” he asked her. She heard the slight panic in his voice and wondered about it but didn’t press. She did, however, stand up at the foot of the bed, where he would be able to see her without moving his head.

“I have decided that turnabout is fair play, vhenan,” she said with a hint of wickedness. Her smile was sultry and when he was able to focus on what she had said he began to smile back.

Then he saw what she was wearing and his heart stopped beating for a second; only to start up double time. He felt his dick stirring at the sight.

“I see you like my outfit,” she said to her lover. He swallowed and nodded, unable to find any words.

The cloth had to be silk, although it looked to be no firmer than the gossamer of a spiders web. It shimmered with the colors of the rainbow in the early morning sunlight that filtered through the one window on the east side of the room; though it was clearly white.

Yet despite the colors it was nearly transparent where it clung to her skin. The raspberry tips of her peaches and cream breasts were clearly outlined and his mouth watered when her movements caused her nipples to harden and pucker under his gaze. He could see the outline of her stomach and her thighs with each movement.

Those same movements gave him tantalizing glimpses of her auburn covered pussy. He swallowed yet again when she moved in a slow circle, the cloth clinging briefly to her heart shaped ass.

“I’m glad you like it, vhenan,” she said with feigned innocence.

“Take it off,” he said roughly, his voice hoarse with his renewed desire for her. She pouted prettily at him.

“Are you sure?” she asked him, that hint of wickedness back in her voice. He could only nod. He didn’t like not being able to see her body.

She gave him a sultry smile and put her hand on her left shoulder and tugged, then dropped a long strand of cloth. His blue eyes widened when he realized it wasn’t a single piece of cloth but strands.

“The only advantage I found from leaving the Circle, vhenan,” she said as she slowly began to dance for him. “Was getting far more information on other cultures,” She pulled another strand from the dress and trailed the cloth, still warm from her body, along his legs. Her body moved through a dance he’d never seen before. Her hips moved almost as if she were being made love to, but without the violence; almost as if she were making love to herself.

He waited breathlessly for the next cloth to come off, growling in frustration when it didn’t show any more skin than before. Yet he felt himself growing more excited instead of less. Her hands briefly cupped her breasts before she pinched her nipples; her own head thrown back in ecstasy as she pulled a fourth strand, this time baring her whole right leg.

“The Rivani,” she panted, “call this the Dance of the Veils,” her movements were speeding up and the remaining strands of cloth would part as she turned giving him brief glimpses of the body he wanted to touch. The fifth strand went flying and he heard her moaning which drew his eyes to her hands which were now caressing her body as if by a lover.

“Bronwynn!” he demanded, his hardened dick throbbing painfully with his need. She stopped moving, looking him in the eyes, smiling sinfully at him. There was a sixth cloth in her hands, over her head and now he could see her left breast clearly. His mouth dried when she drew the cloth across her hardened nipple, amazed at how the heat of her body made the cloth seem to disappear.

“You told me to take it off, vhenan,” she said. He groaned when the cloth then caressed his penis; the heat of her making it harder for him to think. He couldn’t say another word, although he growled when she once again began her slow agonizing movements. The gyrating of her body should have been vulgar; should have been a turn off. Yet she was even more evocative than he thought she could be.

He was actively pulling at the bindings holding him by the time the ninth strand of cloth left her curvaceous body. She once again slowed her movements and now he could see there were only three cloths left; one that covered her bottom, one covering her pussy and one over her right breast. The dance changed then to something slow; as if she were moving through the aftershocks of an orgasm.

She pulled the cloth detached the cloth covering her ass and dropped it to the floor, almost languidly. She twisted her hips and her shoulders in opposite directions, using the movement to distract him from the strand that covered her breast.

She stopped moving, her breath coming in slow pants; only one cloth left. He was panting right along with her; his blue eyes a dark and stormy ocean as they focused on her heaving breasts. He moaned her name and she very slowly unhooked the the strand of cloth that hid her pussy. He sucked in a harsh heated breath when he saw the glistening curls. He groaned when he realized that she had come while dancing for him.

He held his breath as she slowly climbed onto the bed, when her mouth pressed against the head of his dick he growled in pain and pleasure. He began panting harder as she slid her body up his; allowing her breasts to cup him briefly. Her tongue traced a line up his body from his navel until she reached his mouth.

He felt a tug of magic and his bindings came loose just as she lowered herself onto his painfully engorged penis. He had no time to do more than grip her hips hips; however. As soon as she was fully seated on him, his dick deep inside her she came again; crying out with her pleasure and his shout drowned out her cry as he filled her to overflowing.

She collapsed on his chest, panting from the climax. He wrapped his arms around his mage and held her tightly.

“I love you,” he said to her. He said it so simply, so matter of factly that it surprised him enough to say it again.

“I love you,” he said, and this time there was surprise in his voice, Bronwynn raised her head to look at him; her brows furrowed quizzically. He breathed heavily, lifting her as he did so. She could feel a tension releasing from inside him.

“I-,” he stopped and took another, deeper breath. “I did blame you,” he said as he held her. He didn’t feel her go very still on him. He didn’t realize she was breathing very shallowly.

“I, I can’t begin to tell you how they tortured me, what they did.” His shudder brought tears to her eyes; yet she held her tongue and swallowed her questions.

“Maybe someday I will be able to, I don’t know; but I am sorry,” he said. She knew he wasn’t seeing her right this moment so she still didn’t move.

“I blamed you, because you left me. Because I thought; wanted to think, that you didn’t love me or never really had,” his voice had become choked with unshed tears.

“I blamed you because I felt so damned guilty!” he said. He moved, then, sliding out from under her to sit on the side of the bed. She couldn’t stop herself from resting a hand on his shoulder. She needed to touch him; he was glad she did as he needed her touch just as much. Two years had passed since her injury; three since their last argument. She made it a point to push when he was being too quiet and he made an effort to talk about the painful things; when he could.

This was the first time he’d realized just how much trust in her he had.

“They bound me, Bronwynn. Not with physical bindings, but bound me still,” her heart froze when she heard that. “You released me before …” he shivered again and now her tears did fall.

“Vhenan,” she whispered in despair. He turned to face her and took her face in his hands.

“No!” he said with a smile. “You made it, better,” he said. She frowned.

“A good memory to counter the vile one,” he said and she heard a note of hope in his voice. Something she hadn’t heard in a while.

“Although, perhaps we can find another way of tormenting me,” he said with humor; real humor.

“Well, I’ll give you the book that describes the dance,” she responded.

“Why?”

“Because it describes how a new bride is supposed to dance for her husband,” she told him. His laugh was soft and real. 

“Will you marry me?” he asked her. Her eyes widened in shock.

“Yes!” she said emphatically. So much so he laughed at her certainty.

“No hesitation at all?” he asked as he leaned over and kissed her gently.

“None,” she answered. Her eyes were shining with her love. He sighed and stood; walking over to a pack he had placed in the corner the day before. He held a hand closed about an object when he sat back down on the bed.

“I had this made before you were sent to the front,” he said as he opened his hand. On his palm lay a circle of platinum with a deep emerald stone set into it. She could see an inscription on the inside and tried to pick it up to read it. He closed his fingers on hers and shook his head.

“It says ‘ _My heart for yours, vhenan_ ’,” he told her, and her green eyes filled with tears again.

“Finding this emerald took time, and still I don’t think it matches your eyes exactly. Will you wear this?” he asked her. She nodded solemnly and held out her left hand. He slipped it onto her ring finger, then kissed the finger.

“I will marry you,” he swore. She smiled and kissed him softly. He had just began deepening the kiss when her stomach growled loudly. They both froze for a moment before breaking apart and into laughter.

“After I feed you,” he said with a swift kiss so they could dress and head downstairs.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

**Dragon 9:34-End of year**

Bronwynn, Bethany, Stroud and Mitos all four were running through Kirkwall proper through utter chaos.

There were fires everywhere, elves were attacking anyone that wasn’t an elf or a Qunari. The city guard was clearly overwhelmed by the ferocity of the Qunari soldiers.

Bronwynn could hear Bethany telling herself she had to keep going, this was not her fight, and Bronwynn sympathized. She wanted to stop and help as well; but her cousin was right-this wasn’t their fight.

The four of them came to the docks of Lowtown and suddenly had no choice but to stand and fight instead of simply clearing a path before themselves. A squad of Qunari and Viddathari were facing off against a squad of the guard. Stroud and Mitos went to work with their longswords, quickly cutting down the elves and using their movements to steer the Qunari into the paths of both Bethany and Bronwynn’s magical attacks.

Still, even with the guard there it seemed as if they would be overwhelmed when the Saarebas joined the fray. The two mages concentrated on the enemy mage they could see, but he was quite skilled. Bethany managed to cage him in a telekinetic field when three crossbow bolts came flying out of seemingly nowhere to pin the bastard to the wall behind him.

Then Hawke and the Guard Captain cut him down. Bronwynn simply moved to the next target, pulling on the energy around her to keep up her strength. With the added skill of Hawke and his friends the battle quickly turned and the group of Qunari and Viddathari were slain.

Hawke saw his sister and tried to hug her, only to be rebuffed. Bronwynn shook her head; Bethany hadn’t quite forgiven her brother even after all these years. She knew Bethany would come around, but right now wasn’t the time.

“Bethany, about Mother,” Bethany shook her head as she turned away.

“Uncle Gamlen told me, I must leave,” Hawke’s face twisted in pain. Bronwynn stepped up to him and hugged him quickly.

“I’m sorry she’s gone, but we do have to go,” She told him.

“You could stay and help, we could use the help,” he said to her with bitter anger.

“It’s not our fight, cousin; however much we may wish it otherwise. We have urgent matters of our own, this terrible night,” Bronwynn snapped back at him before turning and running after her fellow Wardens.

The two warriors and mages made it through the city and into the fields around Kirkwall. They were determined to get to their destination before sunrise; although that wasn’t looking likely.

“How can it still be alive?” Mitos demanded as they ran. That the Dwarf was keeping up was slightly amazing.

“I am not sure, brother,” Stroud answered him and both Bronwynn and Bethany were shaking their heads at the dwarf. He kept asking the question even though no one had an answer for him. The dwarf made a disgusted sound then saved his breath for the run.

An hour before dawn they found the cave they sought. All of them could feel the Darkspawn teaming within. Bethany quickly downed a lyrium potion, while Bronwynn merely closed her eyes in a quick meditation. She felt the energies of the land and air around them; felt the excess emotion from a long ago battle and drew it all into herself. The two warriors took several deep breaths then nodded to one another and looked back at the mages who nodded as well.

As one they entered the cavern to face the Darkspawn that were being led by a Warden who should have died in the Deep Roads; and had instead given in and now led the Darkspawn who had been ‘cured’ by the Architect.

Bronwynn briefly thought of the fight her cousin was going through and prayed they both fared well this night.

* * *

Four Wardens had gone in the cave entrance to the Deep Roads but only three returned. Mitos had given his life to protect Bethany from a Hurlock Omega while she was taking down an Emissary. He wounded it badly enough that Bethany was able to dispatch it; which ended that particular battle. However both she and Bronwynn were unable to save their brother in arms.

They emerged from the cave five days after having gone in, bruised, bloodied and battered the three comrades weren’t sure they could make the trip to their outpost.

“Oh, good, you live,” Nathaniel said; surprising the three of them.

“Are you sure?” Bethany asked the handsome rogue. He gave her an engaging grin then caught her as she fell. Exhaustion had all three in it’s vice like grip.

“Here, let me help you into the wagon,” he said to her. It took time but he managed to get all three into the back of the wagon he had brought.

“It’s not comfortable, but you don’t have to walk; sleep my friends,” he ordered jauntily. Had they not been so exhausted they may just have argued with him.

When Bronwynn awoke she was tucked into her bed at the outpost in her small clothes. She chuckled when she realized just how tired she had to have been since she was still wearing her bra. Then she realized she didn’t remember getting to the outpost and wondered who had undressed her.  

Then she heard the door open and saw one of the elves who insisted on serving her.

“Tela, what are you doing?” Bronwynn asked the young girl.

“You need a bath,” the dark haired elf said as if that were obvious. Then she let several men in who were carrying a heavy tub and several buckets. Bronwynn just shook her head at the silly girl.

“You’re a Warden, Tela, _not_ a servant,” Bronwynn reminded her.

“And you’re a human who needs an elf to look after her,” the girl quipped back, causing Bronwynn to laugh in spite of herself.

“Tela, what am I going to do with you?”

“Nothing, you’re going to take a bath and then you’re going to eat and _then_ you’re going to take yourself into the city and deal with Meredith and Orsino,” Tela commanded.

“Ookay. Why am I dealing with the Knight-Commander and the First Enchanter?”

“Because Stroud has threatened to kill the Knight-Commander one too many times; and she probably won’t even entertain the thought of dealing with an elf,” Tela replied.

“What’s happened?”

“As you know, the Qunari attacked the city,” Bronwynn nodded. “Apparently this was after a Mother killed the Viscount’s son, Seamus,” Bronwynn gasped.

“A Chantry Mother?” Bronwynn asked as she removed her small clothes and slipped into the hot water. She hissed when the water stung several cuts she didn’t remember getting.

“Yes, of course that cousin of your’s was somehow involved and managed to get the woman killed by the Qunari,” Tela said with disdain. Bronwynn made a note to ask Hawke about the incident.

“Is that what set them off finally?” Bronwynn asked. She never really knew how Tela managed to get so much information before she did.

“Apparently their Arishok came clean about why they were here in the first place. Someone stole a book of theirs,” Bronwynn nodded; she had known that.

“Yes, I had heard something about a Book of Koslun having been stolen on it’s way to them from Orlais,” she mentioned. Tela just shook her head.

“You should have told the Viscount this,” she said with scorn. Bronwynn laughed.

“Harpy! I am not in the habit of telling people how to rule their kingdoms, and it wouldn’t have mattered even if he did know. The Arishok wouldn’t have accepted help in finding the book,” she told the elf. “Go on, what was the final straw?”

“A pair of elves had gone to the Qunari to join the Qun after having killed a guard. Now, said guard apparently raped their sister so he deserved killing,” the elf girl said with feeling.

“Aye, that he did,” Bronwynn agreed.

“Well, the Arishok decided that Captain Aveline and Hawke going to him to get the elves to bring them to Kirkwall justice was too much; especially since he was more interested in where Hawke’s pirate friend had gone because she was the one who stole the book,” Now Bronwynn turned in the tub to stare at her friend in true shock. That was not what she had been expecting to hear.

“Truly? For the last six years we’ve all been on tenterhooks and she had the damned thing?”

“No, she didn’t,” Tela sounded disappointed in this fact. “I’m not real clear on what happened next or why, but apparently the Qunari made it to the Viscount’s palace and killed the Viscount. The Templars and the Mages worked with your cousin to distract the Qunari guard who were outside the castle and Hawke went in and managed to kill the Arishok.” Bronwynn sat back in the tub with a huff of breath.

“Wow,” she said, stunned.

“Wow isn’t even half of it, Knight-Commander Meredith got there after the fight was over and named Hawke Champion of Kirkwall.”

Bronwynn looked at her friend again, and saw she was serious.

“So what has all this got to do with _me_ going and talking to the woman?” Bronwynn asked when Tela came over with a towel to help her out of the tub.

“Actually, there is a letter,” Tela said an Bronwynn laughed again.

“Reading my mail now?”

“It had the Seal of the Divine on it, I was curious,” she admitted.

“What am I going to do with you?” Bronwynn asked again. This time Tela simply handed her the letter and left the room.

* * *

_Warden Amell,_

_I greet you, Warden, and pray this letter finds you safe. My Right and Left Hands have spoken highly of you; and considering my Right Hand is very hard to impress this alone speaks well of you._

_Sister Nightingale assures me you are steadfast in your desire to be neutral. I applaud this, and I hope to convince you to put it to use for all of Thedas._

_Wardens, for all that they are needed during the turbulent times of a Blight; have become largely unnecessary when there is peace for the surface. As much peace as we humble children of the Maker can manage, that is. Yet the very fact that all of Thedas knows that Wardens do not take sides in politics; the situation in Ferelden being a severe exception, may aid my endeavors to find a peaceful solution to the current situation between the Chantry and our mage charges._

_I ask that you first speak with Grand Cleric Elthina. Urge her to encourage the Knight-Commander under her guidance to give the mages under_ her _care a chance to prove they are what she claims. I know the Seekers of Truth claim they found so many instances of blood magic within the circle in Kirkwall that her methods seemed appropriate, yet I worry that the zealousness with which she works will soon work against us all._

_Once you have spoken with Elthina, I ask you to then speak with Knight-Commander Meredith and her Knight-Captain Cullen. I do not ask you to do this in vain; I have instructed Meredith to hear you out, to give your idea a chance. I am certain she and her Knight-Captain will want to find a better solution to dealing with any blood mages they may find._

_Finally I implore you to speak with the First Enchanter Orsino. I fear he has lost all hope and has given up on attempting to control his Circle. I am not sure what you could do or say to bolster his resolve, but I ask you to try._

_Again, I ask this of you not only because you are a mage, but because you are a Warden mage. I hope that this will allow those involved in this immediate crisis to take a step back and see the damage they are causing._

_Seeker Pentaghast suggests that I should speak with you in person, to discuss your views. We are so close to losing what peace we do have that I am unsure if there would be time. Yet Seeker Pentaghast rarely gives advice._

_Indeed they both have encouraged me to seek your counsel on several matters that pertain to the plight of the mages as it now stands. I am unsure how  you could assist me in these delicate matters since you are a Warden. Your order is known for it’s stance of neutrality as well as it’s secrecy._

_Speaking of secrecy, it has come to my attention that you have information pertaining to ways of protecting mages from themselves; as well as protecting the public at large from mages. I suspect you managed to find a way to gather tomes that were supposedly expunged by the Chantry as they were deemed dangerous knowledge for mages to have. Knowledge that now may be better used if not so secret, yes?_

_I then ask you, if your duties permit, to come to Val Royeaux and visit with me. I admit to being curious about the woman that impressed both of my Hands so thoroughly._

_Please think on my request. I pray the Maker will guide you to help find peace for His children before we destroy one another._

  


_Justinia_

* * *

Bronwynn was impressed, the new Divine managed to make an order sound like a request. She contemplated the letter while she dressed. Apparently the Divine Justinia thought more of the Wardens, or at least their famed neutrality, than was wise. It wasn’t actually neutrality but refusal to get involved unless it benefited them in some way. Ferelden was an exception but only in that the Hero of Ferelden chose who the next king would be. Everything else the two had done was well within the realm of ending the blight.

Once that was done the Warden Commander left Ferelden; only returning when the Arling required his presence. Even then he didn’t stay long; leaving the running of the Arl of Amaranthine to underlings and nobles.

Mostly to Nathaniel. Cousland had apparently gone chasing after the Kokari Wilds apostate she had met once. The girl had kept her distance from most of the soldiers and mages that were running through the wilds chasing Darkspawn; but apparently Bronwynn had intrigued her. What little time they had spent together had impressed two things upon Bronwynn. The first was that the girl had been taught by someone who truly understood magic in a way most people no longer did; the second was that she had also been taught to use truth like a weapon.

Bronwynn took the letter downstairs to find Stroud and find out what his opinion might be.

  


“It isn’t real, Jean-Marc!” She heard one of the new Wardens saying as she neared the dining hall.

“How can you be so sure?” Bronwynn stopped to listen and when she did she heard something in the back of her mind. A discordant song that sounded like a faint echo of the Archdemon’s.

“Because _all_ of us are hearing it, and that can’t be right,” the Warden rogue said, trying to sound reasonable.

“She never said you wouldn’t hear the Calling,” Stroud began to say when Bronwynn walked in.

“If you mean me, actually I did say just that,” she interjected. “Those who have undergone the Joining without the Darkspawn blood won’t hear a calling, we’re not blighted,” she said as she went to the bar on the side of the room to fill a plate with food.

“But you have to be to sense the Darkspawn!” Stroud exclaimed. She shook her head as she sat beside him, across from Liam; the rogue who had been arguing with Stroud.

“We are tainted, yes,” Liam said as if he was barely holding onto his patience. “But the potion no longer carries the blight.” Bronwynn nodded her agreement as she bit into her eggs.

“It is the taint we sense, Jean-Marc. In the Darkspawn and each other. Yet we aren’t going to be at risk of becoming ghouls so the calling won’t come to us,” she ate another mouthful of eggs. She was impressed that Liam understood the new potion so well.

“What does that mean exactly?” Nathaniel asked as he entered the room to fill his own plate.

“It means that although we are tainted, and will be able to hear and even understand the Archdemon and even certain Darkspawn we are in no danger of becoming like them or becoming their servants,” Liam said with a small hint of excitement in his voice.

“It also means, Nathaniel; that we won’t have to go to the Deep Roads to commit suicide,” Bronwynn took a sip from the glass a servant had filled for her.

“We will be able to make forays into the Deep Roads in number, set ambushes and even get more information on the blight since the Darkspawn don’t sense us _because_ we aren’t blighted,” Bronwynn finished. Liam was nodding emphatically.

“There may only be a few hundred of us now, but soon we’ll be a large enough force that we _can_ actively pursue the Darkspawn in the Deep Roads, truly helping all of Thedas; not just the surface when there’s a blight or the Legion of the Dead when we’re on a suicide run!”

Bronwynn realized this young man had thought it through thoroughly. He’d make a great commander one day.

“But if you’re hearing this echo like I am,” Stroud said with a leading sound. Bronwynn answered.

“Then it can’t be a true calling. It’s more like an echo of the Archdemon than anything else and I’ve heard the calling described as a different kind of ‘ _song_ ’ all together.”

“Indeed, I have heard the same,” Stroud admitted. He sighed and shrugged.

“It matters not, at this point. Clarel has sent word she wanted to know if we were hearing it as well, I will send her the information you have given me.” He placed his napkin on the table and rose to leave. Bronwynn quickly followed.

“Stroud,” she called. He turned to face her with an inquiring look.

“I want you to read this and give me your opinion,” she said as she reached him, handing him the letter. She walked with him as he read the letter. They reached one of the rooms set up for an office and she opened the door for him.

“Why would she ask this of you in particular?” Stroud wondered aloud. Bronwynn chuckled.

“Most likely because Clarel has had me be the one who is speaking with her Left and Right hands,” she postulated. Stroud chuckled in response to that.

“She _has_ been attempting to create a better relationship with the Chantry,” Stroud said. Bronwynn merely shrugged, having no opinion on the subject. She could see the need. With so many countries following the Chant of Light having the Chantry back up the Wardens would ease many of the issues so many people have with the Order.

Of course, then the Chantry would expect the Wardens to act like another arm of theirs. Specialist like the Seekers, just with extra capabilities. It wouldn’t work, since the Wardens wouldn’t kill blood mages for them, the Order would recruit them. Sometimes Bronwynn thought the Wardens were the only one’s who still followed the spirit of the Chant. She didn’t want anyone thinking it was okay to use blood magic but she also felt that many mages turned to it out of a desperation to feel as if they had power.

The Chantry had done a good job of making most mages feel guilt for an act they had nothing to do with. They managed to find a way to make it that mages didn’t learn more than enough control to not kill themselves with their magic.

Make mages fear themselves and make sure everyone else believes mages are all going to give in to demons and try and destroy the world and you keep power of the masses.

And they wondered why so many looked to Tevinter as both a cautionary tale and a hope.

“So I’m asking for your advice here, Jean-Marc. Should I do as she asks?” Bronwynn said as a change of subject back to her original intent. He had seated himself behind his desk and she was sitting in a chair opposite, playing with her hair.

“Truthfully my friend; I would say just go speak with Her Grace Elthina. Perhaps hearing that Most Holy is reaching out to us will encourage her to intervene before it is too late,” he said with a small shrug, handing her back her letter. Bronwynn sat staring at the parchment for a short while before rising.

“I am not sure it is not already too late, Jean-Marc,” Bronwynn said.

* * *

**9:35 Dragon**

_**Four days to Summerday** _

Hawke lay awake in his bed, pretending to sleep so his lover could escape. He knew she wanted to stay; could see it in her body language. He wasn’t going to ask her to. After all these years he knew she would refuse jut be contrary. He kept his body relaxed and eyes mostly closed, breathing shallow but even. She was half dressed and turned to face him; a frown upon her lovely tanned face. He took a deep breath but didn’t move.

“Garrett,” she said quite loudly. He pretended to wake.

“What? What’s wrong?” he asked, reaching for his knives.

“How can you sleep when I’m leaving?” she asked him, not quite petulantly.

“Why’re you leaving?” he asked her as he yawned after putting his knife up. He then sat back down on the bed, stretching his legs before him. He crossed his arms behind his head and watched her. Let her decide where this was going. He was tired of chasing her. Let her doubt, for a while.

She had stilled; her whisky brown eyes devouring his body from where she stood. She swallowed as she tried to figure out what to say.

“Stay or go, Rivani,” he said with another yawn. “You said no strings, so no strings,” he reached out and pulled the covers up over his hips as he then slid down with his head on his pillow. He closed his eyes on her look of surprise. He managed not to smile as he pretended to once again go to sleep. He wasn’t surprised when she finished dressing and left the room in a huff.

He let out a rough sigh, feeling the weight of his emotions pressing on him. Perhaps he truly should find another to bed.

* * *

**9:35 Dragon**

_**Three days to Summerday** _

Fenris was frowning over several necklaces that had caught his eye as he was passing through the market. He could hear Merrill as she spoke with one of the herb sellers in the hightown market. He wasn’t sure how she managed to make everyone like her despite her being an elf.

He thought it was because she managed to always sound so very innocent. He grinned when he thought about that for she was anything but. If they were separated for more than a day her enthusiasm was quite contagious. He had stopped pretending he wanted her with him so he could keep her from hurting anyone or using blood magic. He still wasn’t sure why she fascinated him so, but she did.

Thus the reason he was looking at these necklaces instead of watching her.

“Filfy elven ‘hore!” he heard from behind him where he had tracked Merrill as she spoke with the herbalist. At the same time he heard the clatter of her things and a loud wumph as she hit the ground.

“Keep outta da way of yore betters!” Fenris had whipped around, drawing his sword off his back. Merrill lay upon the cobblestone street with a bloody nose and what appeared to be a bump forming on her temple. Fenris loosed a growl from deep in his chest and stepped forward so he was standing protectively over her.

“Should she see anyone who is better than she I’m sure she would, Becker” Fenris heard the vendor she’d been speaking with say with a sneer. The man didn’t get in the way of Fenris’ sword; and he appeared to be ready to fight alongside the elf. The man named Becker turned his face towards the vendor.

“Your poking the elf, Landon? Tha’ why you takin’ up for it?” His words were slurred and his stance was clearly that of a drunkard. The vendor, Landon merely laughed cruelly at the drunk man.

“You see the man here with the big sword?” Landon asked with clear sarcasm. The man Becker sneered at Fenris as if he were a joke.

“I ain’t seeing a _man_ , Landon, I see an elf what thinks it can take me,” again Landon gave a cruel laugh.

“That _man_ , Becker, is your better and the _woman_ you struck is his wife,” Now Fenris could see there were several other vendors who were standing beside and behind him. Giving him room to swing his great sword; but also clearly supporting him. Well, supporting Merrill; he supposed. She was their friend.

“Ain’t no bloody fucking _elf_ better’n me!” the drunkard yelled.

“You struck my wife,” Fenris said very softly. He liked the way that sounded, his wife. He was sure the Dalish woman would have an issue with it; later. He knew she wasn’t moving, and although she was breathing; it was shallow.

“I don’ care if you called ‘er wife, elf! She’s a ‘hore an thas all there is to it!” the drunkard smiled as if he were the cleverest man in town. Fenris saw a familiar head of red, and smiled at the man.

“You struck my wife!” Fenris said, more loudly and far more angrily than he had before. Aveline heard his voice and she and her own husband marched into the crowd. She saw Fenris standing over Merrill, saw blood from Merrill’s nose and that she wasn’t moving.

“Fenris, what is going on here?” Aveline asked the lyrium marked elf.

“This man struck Merrill,” Fenris started to say when Landon interrupted.

“Aye Guard Captain, Becker thought he’d prove what a big man he was by striking our Merrill from behind. He waited until her husband wasn’t looking; though. Shows just how tough the drunk bastard is, eh?” Landon got a laugh out of the crowd, and managed to get Becker to look back at him.

“You’re a pokin’ the ‘hore all right, Landon! Otherwise you wouldn’ be takin’ up for ‘er!” Becker was unfortunately sobering up. Fenris could see this and narrowed his eyes at the human. Aveline nodded her agreement as did Donnic. They could both see the man was bent on a fight this day.

“Becker,” Donnic said in a less than reasonable tone. “I want you to come quietly today,” he went on; as if this were a regular occurrence. For all Fenris knew, it was.

Becker, the drunkard, stood at least six feet and probably weighed four stone. He was bulky across the chest and shoulder; most likely a farmer or a miner. He had dull brown hair and even duller brown eyes, his face was ruddy from drink and he had the soft look of a man who drank often.

“Now, guardsman, why you wanna innervene?” the man asked with an exaggerated slur. “It’s not like anyone actually cares if the elf bitch ‘hore gets what’s coming to ‘er!” Fenris had put away his blade while the man was speaking to Donnic, he couldn’t use the blade on the untrained, unarmed drunk.

When Becker turned and struck out at Fenris, he was caught off guard when Fenris had grabbed his arm and pulled. Becker’s face showed his shock at being caught off guard. Clearly he’d expected Fenris to be as easy to knock down as the unsuspecting Merrill.

The move made it so Becker and Fenris were now two steps away from the unconscious mage, allowing Aveline and Donnic to get to her and get her off the ground. Landon and several others made a place for their friend out of the sun while Aveline and Donnic went to put a stop to the fight before Fenris killed the man.

Fenris easily kept the man from moving past him; and he’d noticed that the crowd had closed in to block Merrill from his view. When the idiot swung once again; a  right handed telegraphed haymaker, Fenris simply ducked and stepped into the wider man’s space. He landed two solid blows to the man’s sternum and used his right elbow to smash his chin.

Becker toppled to the ground in a heap, woofing out his breath as he landed on his back. Aveline stepped to Fenris’ side and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder; keeping the elf from moving towards the downed man. Fenris let out a breath in a deep growl, but nodded to his friend. She squeezed his shoulder while Donnic turned Becker over and bound his hands behind his back.

“Now, see, if you’d come peacefully you wouldn’t have that broken jaw right now, Becker,” Donnic was saying laconically. He nodded to his wife and the others as he led the man away.

“He’ll be trouble for her later,” Fenris said softly for Aveline only. The red haired woman nodded.

“I’ll let the guard know to keep an eye out for him. I’ll also put a bug in his employer’s ear,” the Guard Captain replied. “Meanwhile, perhaps you should keep a better eye on your _wife_ ,” she said with her normal lack of subtlety.

“Come to the Hanged Man tonight, I’ll explain; at least if she’s okay we’ll be there,” he said and then amended as the two of them approached the still unconscious girl.

“Get her home, Fenris. I’ll send Anders to take a look at her,” He growled in his throat but nodded as he gently lifted the slight girl from where she lay. He said nothing when Aveline called two guards over to have them escort him and Merrill home. He couldn’t protect her with her in his arms.

* * *

**Dragon 9:35**

_**Two days before Summerday** _

Varric Tethras stood on the balcony overlooking the Hightown square outside Garrett Hawke’s estate and wondered how it had come to this.

How was he going to tell his friend about the thaig that lost him his sister? He sighed once more only to chuckle when the Mabari came out and nudged him.

“How did you get the name Carver, anyhow?” he asked the Mabari. The hound woofed as if laughing.

“Father brought him home when he was a pup. Carver and I both wanted him; but Father said that he would choose who he wanted. Well Carver kept trying to bribe him with sweets, and I kept catching him at it,”

Hawke said as he joined the two on the balcony.

“Let me guess, you would shout Carver! and eventually the hound answered to it?”

“Oh I am quite sure Carver here knew exactly what he was doing,” Hawke said with a smile. “See, he started getting to the kitchen first when Mother would call us in to dinner; but she always called Bethany first, then me, then Carver,” Hawke smiled at the memory, patting his canine companion on the head.

“Poor Carver, then, to be beaten to dinner by the hound,” Varric said with a laugh. Then once more he sighed.

“What’s up, Varric? You’re not usually so breathy.” Carver chuffed his agreement.

“I have a lead on Bartrand,” he said finally.

“Oh? Is that good or bad for him?” There was a coldness to Hawke’s voice that proved he still hadn’t forgiven the dwarf for his betrayal.

“I have it on good authority he’s been trying to find a buyer for the thaig’s location,” Varric said. “So far he’s had no takers, but mostly because I put out we cleaned it out,” Varric shrugged as he looked out over the square again.

“I sense there’s more,” Hawke said.

“Aye, I have a feeling he’s coming back to town; I can’t be sure mind, but; well let’s just say I hope I’m right this time,” Varric said. Hawke nodded before squeezing his friends shoulder.

“I have told you before, it wasn’t your fault and I still believe it. _You_ didn’t betray us, _you_ didn’t get Bethany infected,” Varric nodded and let go of the stress he was holding.

“I think we should go to the Hanged Man tonight Varric. Perhaps I’ll even buy you a round,” Hawke said with a laugh as he changed the subject.

“Hey, I’m willing to let you pay my tab,” Varric said as he followed Hawke inside. Carver barked and hopped around with excitement.

* * *

**Dragon 9:35**

_**Day before Summerday** _

The ex-Warden turned abomination flipped desperately through the tome one of his friends in the Circle had smuggled to him. He knew he had to find a way to make Thedas listen to the mages. Mages shouldn’t be kept prisoner for being mages, none of them asked for the magic.

He stopped and went back a page and read more slowly. Yes, this is what he needed. This would get their attention.

It was only a last resort, though. Only if the Templars didn’t stop tormenting his fellow mages, only if they didn’t heed his manifesto.

He could feel Justice grumbling inside his head, it wanted to do more, sooner; but Anders knew they had to be a little more patient. For just a little while longer.

* * *

**Dragon 9:35**

_**Summerday** _

_**The Hawke Estate** _

“Come  _on_ Bethany, it really is time you stopped blaming your brother!’ Bronwynn said as she dragged her pretty cousin into the mansion.

“I don’t know what you think I blame him for,” Bethany groused. Bronwynn rolled her eyes.

“If you had stayed here, do you think you’d be better off?” Bronwynn asked her. Bethany opened her mouth to answer and then closed it in defeat.

“No, I probably would have ended up in the Circle,” she said sadly.

“It wasn’t his fault you got hit by the blight; and Stroud said he did ask you if you wanted it,” Bronwynn reminded her. Bethany laughed softly.

“I didn’t want to die,” she replied.

“Well you still knew what was at stake and you made the choice. How was it ever his fault?” Bronwynn asked Bethany.

“I think I realized how much I had been in his shadow and how I felt after getting out of made me angry that he had kept me there,” Bethany said. Then, as her brother was walking into the foyer where they were standing and talking she sighed.

“I never realized how angry I was about that. How it always felt like Father was more proud of you than me,” Bethany said to Garrett, who frowned in confusion.

“Father was proud of all of us, Sister. He thought you hung the stars but only because Mother hung the moon. Carver would give him fits of fright with how he was always looking for a fight or a way to prove himself,” Bethany laughed in remembrance.

“He really did do some dangerous things,” Bethany agreed.

“But Father was most proud of his tenacity. How he wouldn’t give up,” Garrett said with his own pride in his brother shining through.

“He was most proud of you, though,” Bethany said with a bitterness that tore at Garrett’s heart.

“He told me he was proud of how I took to you two. How I took it upon myself to protect you both,” he reached out and took his sister’s left hand in both of his. “He didn’t love me more than you two, he wasn’t more proud of me than you two. He gave us all he had; and I miss him more every day,” Garrett said sadly. Bethany smiled.

“Me too, Brother,” she said and stepped into his arms to allow him to hug her.

“Please don’t leave me alone, Bethany, you’re all I have left,” he whispered in her ear. She heard the pain in his voice and wondered at it.

“I held you back,” she said to him. Again there was bitterness in his voice, but he laughed.

“Beth, you could have been a non-mage and I would still have done everything I always did. You’re my sister and I love you,” he said without reservation.

“Okay, enough mopiness and sap! I came to party!” Bronwynn said to lighten the mood.

“You came to party but a certain Templar came and he’s very serious,” Garrett said with a sneaky grin.

“Well that’s just because he doesn’t party the way you do, Cousin!” Bronwynn said as she floated through the entrance to the main hall where everyone was gathered.

_**Later that night** _

“How did you manage to drink an entire keg all by yourself, love?” Cullen asked Bronwynn as he helped her to the Warden manor. Her giggle was infectious enough to make him smile.

“‘Onesly don’ know vhe-vhen-nan,” she answered on a hiccough.

“You’re going to feel this in the morning, er, afternoon,” he said as he shifted her into his arms to carry her up the stairs.

“That is the last time I allow you to make bets with Dwarves,” Cullen said with mock severity. His lover laughed and kissed him sloppily before falling into sleep when he lay her on the bed. He sighed with frustration.

‘ _So much for the celebration I wanted_ ’ he thought before undressing his mage then stripping down himself. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to get a lot of time with her for a while.

 


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

_**Dragon 9:36** _

Bronwynn sighed as she finished re-reading the last letter from Cullen. Meredith taking over the City-State of Kirkwall had basically made him the de facto Knight Commander. Of course, she still gave him no power and he was getting frustrated. He was starting to see the abuses he had missed years ago; and although he couldn’t say for sure the mages weren’t blood mages, he tried to stop what he could catch.

Bronwynn knew it was all going to end in tears. She had thought long and hard about her response to the new Divine and had gone with a compromise. She did go and speak with Elthina, even showing her the letter from the Divine. The older woman merely shook her head and said she couldn’t choose a side because it wasn’t her place.

Bronwynn had almost slapped her. She had tried, in vain, to convince her that both sides would listen to her; if she would bother to voice her concern over the situation. The Grand Cleric stood firm in her indecision. Bronwynn had written the Most Holy with the non-choice the Grand Cleric made and her own frustration.

A year had passed since the Qunari had been driven from the city; half a year since Meredith had taken over and things were only getting worse. Even the Wardens were feeling the strain as Meredith sent patrol after patrol out to the Outpost in an effort to find blood mages. Stroud had confronted her himself the one time she had come with the patrol with the intent to ‘ _arrest_ ’ blood mages. The conversation had been dutifully repeated to Bronwynn by Tela.

“You should have seen the look on her face when he reminded her you would happily teach her how to find blood mages so she didn’t have to search so hard for evidence,” Tela had laughed.

“I thought her face was going to turn inside out!” Jon, another rogue, had said with his own laugh. Bronwynn had just shaken her head and left them to their humor. They weren’t mages so didn’t  completely understand  the fear so many had of this accusation.

Truth be told many of the mages that joined the Wardens did so; not just out of a need to protect but as a protection from the Chantry and the Templars. Bronwynn knew not all Templars were out to harm mages; but they were usually unable or unwilling to intervene when other Templars were abusing mages.

There were also mages who would do the same and no one ever thought to intervene there.

“Sister, Stroud wants you to take a patrol this afternoon!” She heard one of the newer Wardens shout from the bottom of the stairs. Bronwynn stepped out and looked down at him, as did three other women.

“And which sister is that?” the oldest of them asked; a woman named  Jontal who favored two swords to anything else. The young man blushed deeply to be caught behaving in so ungainly a manner which made all three women laugh.

“He asked for Warden Amell,” he said just loudly enough to be heard then quickly ran from the area. The other two looked at Bronwynn as they all burst into laughter again.

“Well I guess he’ll remember to knock on a door next time,” Jontal said with humor. Bronwynn nodded and moved into her room to change into her leathers rather than her robes.

It didn’t take her long to get into her armor and to get her pack full of potions and any components she may need. Stroud was walking in from training the new recruits as she was walking out.

“Ah, good,” he said with his light Orlesian accent. “I would appreciate you taking the South patrol along the city side with Durgan,” he said when he saw her. She made a face but nodded. He chuckled as she walked out, calling for the Dwarf as she did so. The two of them  never had gotten along very well.

* * *

* * *

Bronwynn and Durgan spoke only when it was necessary, they really didn’t like one another. That they were both Wardens was the only reason they were able to work together and that they did well.

She could hear Durgan grumbling from beside her when she had stopped to check something on the ground. He had been part of the Legion of the Dead before he joined the Wardens and he wasn’t comfortable on the surface yet. Bronwynn knew he was watching what she was doing; she also knew not to explain anything unless he asked.

“What exactly are you looking at, Amell?” he finally asked. She motioned him down.

“The grass has been compressed here, looks like someone was standing here for a while,” she said. He looked closely at the spot, and she watched as his eyes found the other signs that were around. More than one person had been here.

“Hunh, now I didn’t realize that grass would show that so well,” he said thoughtfully.

“I know you could find it in stone,” Bronwynn said. She meant it, having been Legion he would be damn good at tracking through stone. He nodded proudly and stood up.

There was a loud ‘thonk’ and a squish, Bronwynn didn’t think she simply rolled forward and raised her shields to completely solid; protecting her from magic as well as physical attacks. She looked to see if the Dwarf was moving behind cover to see him lying on the ground with an arrow through his throat. She scuttled to him, intent on trying to save him only to see the blood and energy of the death being pulled away from his body.

She saw red.

After all she had been through at Kinloch Hold she more than despised blood magic and blood mages. Though Cullen had never told her what he’d experienced, the compassion spirit that accompanied her had; to help her understand his nightmares and why it couldn’t take away his pain. Those facts had only solidified her hate.

Blood magic was used by fools, weak minded idiots and the undisciplined. She turned her aura sight towards the direction the power was flowing and found the group. Ten mages and five archers. ‘ _Good_ ’ she thought to herself. ‘ _a workout_.’ Maybe she hadn’t liked Durgan, but he was a Warden, her brother at arms and these blood mages would pay the price for having killed him and desecrating him by taking his blood.

Bronwynn used the the power of the fade to cloak herself. She grabbed her companion’s arrows and bow; although she wasn’t as good with it as she was with her sword, she quickly found cover behind a boulder to her left. Ten mages would sap her energy quickly if she wasn’t careful. Cullen would be very angry with her for dying at the hands of blood mages.

“Where did she go?” she heard a woman’s voice shouting.

“She is still here, we would have seen her leaving; check the brush!” A man shouted. Bronwynn checked her veil and moved to the left more, higher up and around the boulder. She managed to find a way atop the rock so she could look down on the group.

She made sure she kept her shadow in the rock’s shadow as she watched the men and women moving. She wished, for one brief moment, that she had a way to communicate with the outpost. All ten mages had shields up; and they were overpowered. Clearly these fools didn’t know how to conserve what energy they had on top of being weak minded idiots.

Emerald green eyes narrowed as she watched the man who was clearly in charge. Bringing up her sight again she watched them all carefully. Sadly, the five archers were clearly working with these bastards willingly; which made them double bastardsl.

She very carefully began drawing energy from the shields of the mages, hoarding what she could hold. She went through the arrows that Durgan had been carrying and smiled when she found the explosive arrows. He had been a Dwarf; and he was definitely an artificer! She rose up one knee and took careful aim. The archers had moved out a little; but the mages were all still clumped together. With one final pull she drained the last of the energies from their shields and loosed the arrow so it struck the main mage in the chest.

She dropped as soon as she loosed the arrow, and let out a satisfied laugh when she heard the men and women screaming in pain. Knowing that it wouldn’t be hard to determine where the shot had come from she quickly made her way back down the boulder and kept moving to the right. She knew there was a clump of small trees further that way that would be behind the group. It was also on higher ground still; making it possible for her to keep her advantage, as long as she paid attention.

The explosion had killed only three of the mages and none of the archers; but leader was one of the three that had died. She could see the others were beginning to turn on each already. She shook her head; this is what blood magic did to people. She grabbed another of the explosive arrows and took careful aim at the woman who was standing to the left of the leader’s body, she was obviously getting all ready pulling on the energy of his death for the power.

This explosion caused even more chaos since the shot fell short of it’s target. Bronwynn cursed under her breath but shrugged it off. She wasn’t an archer by any means but the explosion still damaged them all. The leader was now dead, and the woman who had been to his left was screaming as she burned. The archers had scattered. This worried Bronwynn until she heard a familiar voice shouting orders.

Bronwynn turned her mind back to the remaining five blood mages. All were seriously injured, but the two women were closer to death than the three men. Bronwynn took a deep breath and pulled energy from the fade into herself to harden her shields against physical as well as magical attacks.

Had she known the sun was completely behind her she would have gone for a more dramatic appearance; but as it was she frightened the five almost to death when she stepped out from the clump of bushes. Her leather armor blended so well with the trees she looked as if she were a Sylvan stepping forward.

“She’s called the forest on us!” One of the men screamed with terror; he turned to run only to be run through with one of the women’s sword.

“I’m not afraid of the forest,” she shouted gutturally. Bronwynn watched as the woman’s form began to twist into that of an abomination. Bronwynn snarled and snapped her staff into full length.

“Oh no you don’t!” She thundered seconds before she brought a rain of fire down upon the heads of the now four mages.

Once more they screamed in terror, but none could leave the circle of flame; they each saw the Templar’s  forming a half circle behind them at the same time they tried to run. Bronwynn used the distraction to cause the air in their lungs to burst into flame. They died quickly then, the silence nigh deafening after the sound of their death screams.

“Well, well, well,” One of the Templars said. “Looks like this one blood mage was better than the rest,” he sneered as he stepped forward. Bronwynn shook her head as she made her staff seemingly disappear.

“Did that really look like blood magic to you, Ser Knight?” she asked calmly. He was younger than she by a good five years, but there was a hardness in his eyes that bespoke sadism on his part.

“Well, I’ll have to say yes, won’t I?” he smiled; and Bronwynn guessed he thought she should be afraid of that smile.

She smiled back. He frowned and took a step back from her. He wasn’t sure why; the red headed witch just stood there in leather armor, hands folded demurely in front of her. She was just one witch, and he had ten Templars with him.

“Private Gorsen; think very carefully here. She just killed ten blood mages; by herself,” Cullen said as he walked into the scene. He knew exactly what the reprobate wanted to do. He was one of Meredith’s favorite recruits as he tended to cater to her hatred of mages.

“Knight-Captain,” Bronwynn bowed to him. “So lovely to see you. You and your men were a welcome distraction. I appreciate your taking out the archers,” she said as she walked down to the men.

“Warden Amell, I see you’re still taking risks,” he said. None of the men could hear the anger in his voice, or the concern. They heard derision; which was what he wanted them to hear. Bronwynn gave a tinkling laugh in response.

“They killed my fellow Warden and drew up the energy in front of me, Knight-Captain. Was I supposed to let them live?”

“I had hoped you would let one of them live, Warden. The Knight-Commander was hoping to question them,” he sighed as he looked at the burnt bodies. “They had escaped the tower just last week,” he shook his head sadly.

“It didn’t take them long to start attacking caravans,” he said as he watched the last of the fires die out.

“Just how in the Maker’s name did you manage this feat, Warden?” he asked her. She shrugged before answering.

“A trick I learned from an older Warden,” she said. “All air burns.” He shook his head.

“Please do something about the bodies, Warden. We don’t need more demons and abominations roaming the countryside,” he said. It was an order, but one Bronwynn was happy to obey. It took time for them all to burn to ash, and Cullen sent his men back to town while he waited to make sure it was done properly.

“You know Gorsen is watching?” she asked him, low enough so only he would hear. He nodded.

“I want to see you, tonight,” he said, also lowly.

“It might not be safe,” she said.

“I don’t care,” he said. She gave a soft laugh.

“I meant for me,” she clarified. He gave her his crooked smile, melting her heart all over again.

“I knew that,” he replied. She nodded and then bowed to him once more. He walked to where Gorsen was watching and forced the young man to move.

“The Knight-Commander won’t like that you let her go, Knight-Captain,” the man groused.

“Private, that woman is a Warden. We have no authority over Wardens; remember that.” They walked the rest of the way in silence. Cullen made sure Gorsen was securely out of the way when he left the Gallows that night.


	29. Chapter 29

  
**Chapter 29**

Bronwynn had returned to the outpost with Durgan’s body over her shoulder and tears in her emerald green eyes. Her report was brief but thorough. Stroud listened with grave intent and sighed sadly and painfully when she was done.

“I suppose it was too much to hope the situation wouldn’t boil over onto us,” Stroud said sadly when she finished. She gave a bitter laugh in response. “No matter, really, we will be heading to Starkhaven in a few months,” he stood up to pace the room.

“Going to try a different entrance?” she asked wearily. It was his turn to give a bitter laugh.

“No, Warden. We are going to see if we can get more recruiting done. You, however, will not be going with us,” he sat in the chair beside her and handed her a vellum letter.

“What’s this?” she asked his with narrowed suspicious eyes.

“Clarel sent me a message with orders for this outpost and for you,” he seemed ready to fall asleep where he sat. She knew things had become more wearisome for the senior Warden. He hadn’t ever wanted to join the Wardens, he had wanted revenge on his family’s murderers. He was an honorable man; however, and served the order to his fullest.

“New orders for me alone?” Bronwynn asked with trepidation.

“Aye, Sister,” he said. She opened the velum which turned out to be  very long. She read the first few paragraphs and shook her head.

“Now how in the Abyss does she expect me to convince the mages that Wardens are neutral when she wants me to support the Divine?” Bronwynn asked in disgust.

“I am actually concerned that the Commander of the Grey is sending you on this assignment,” he said. “You’re right to be incensed. This is not something we Wardens should be getting involved in,” he sighed and stood back up to begin pacing.

“This is going to hurt everyone,” Bronwynn said wearily. She rose and patted Stroud on the shoulder.

“I’ll head into town to pack up my things from the estate; I’ll also get word out to some of our trainee’s to be on the watch for strange orders,” she said before leaving. He stood before the fire; staring blindly into it when he was startled by a touch on his arm.

“Jean-Marc, go to bed. These problems will be here in the morning,” Bronwynn said to him kindly. He smiled at the woman who truly had become like a sister to him.

“Yes, little mother,” he said with a laugh.

* * *

Bronwynn was on edge the entire ride to and through Kirkwall. She had decided to use a glamour to make herself appear to be male and much larger. She managed to reach the estate without incident, but she still wasn’t able to relax until she was inside the manor. The sun had been down an hour, but somehow it felt much later.

The butler appeared beside her as she began to remove her cloak, and Bronwynn almost shrieked.

“My apologies M’lady,” he said contritely. Bronwynn waved away the apology.

“It is very tense out there, feels like an avalanche waiting to happen,” she said as she tried to breath out the jitters.

“M’lord Cullen arrived half an hour ago M’lady. He expressed the same sentiment,” Bronwynn put her hand on his forearm before he turned away from her.

“This will be the last time I’m in the city; we Wardens will only be passing through. I’ll make sure everyone has their pay,” the look of concern on her face warmed the man’s heart. She was one of the few people who truly cared about those who worked for her. “I want you all to get out of Kirkwall, Loudon,” she was quiet but insistent and the butler nodded his head solemnly. He knew she meant everyone and he would make sure of it.

Bronwynn nodded in return and moved up the staircase to her rooms. Part of her wished she could take her Templar to the White Spire with her. She would feel more secure with someone she trusted watching her back. She knew he wouldn’t abandon his duty, even for this; of course that was part of the reason she loved him.

She opened the door and found her lover standing pensively before the fireplace in his ‘street’ clothes. She smiled and watched him for a moment, wondering what had put that crease between his brows now.

“Close the door, woman, you’re letting out the heat,” he said with humor. She gave a low laugh and entered the room, locking the door behind her. He opened his arms for her and she willing went to his embrace. She realized he was hugging her with the same desperation she was hugging him.

“What happened?” they asked together, making them both laugh. He put his finger on her lips to keep her silent.

“Me first,” he said, making her smile wider with his seriousness. She pursed her lips on his finger. He kissed her swiftly.

“You need to leave Kirkwall,” he said in a rush after the kiss. He seemed to deflate after he said it; as if he’d been carrying that inside for hours.

“What happened?” she asked him again, more seriously.

“Gorsen reported my failing to bring in the ‘maleficarum’ to Meredith. She was grudging in her acceptance that you being a Warden meant you were out of our jurisdiction,” he sighed, running a large hand through his blond locks, disturbing his coiffed hair. “She’s increasingly agitated lately. Blood mages everywhere; if Orsino hadn’t interfered yesterday she would have put a nine year old to the brand!” he began to pace the room.

“We’ll likely get the child soon,” Bronwynn said to him. He closed his eyes in both relief and despair.

“I don’t even want to think about what will happen to him if he get’s caught before that happens. Normally I wouldn’t want him to be taken out of the Circle, but he’s NINE!” her lover shouted the last; clearly angry.

“Vhenan; I have already made arrangements for things like this. He’ll be safe and well taught,” she assured him. He breathed out in an effort to relax.

“Does she know about us?” she asked him with concern. The look of disdain she gave him worried her.

“I don’t give a bloody damn if she does,” he answered. “I know _you_ , and I trust you far more than I trust her,” he said. Bronwynn smiled slightly and felt a surge of warmth with his admission.

“So why do you want me to leave?” she asked with curiosity, no anger he noticed and he felt something ease inside his chest.

“I have a feeling something is going to happen and I want you no where near it,” he replied.

“Well then it’s a good thing I have new orders then, isn’t it?” she quipped. He frowned for a second and then shook his head. If it was taking her away from this madness he was glad.

“Some place safer, I hope,” he said as he watched her begin to remove her armor. She shook her head and he narrowed his eyes.

“Where?” he demanded.

“The Spire,” she sighed. He gave her a confused look.

“Clarel is attempting to make a political statement for the Wardens, I think. One I don’t approve of, either.” she sighed as she pulled her favorite blue robe on.

“Wardens aren’t supposed to get involved in politics,” he said. She nodded.

“Exactly, and in this case we truly should be staying out of it. She has given me a long list of instructions on how she wants me to deal with the situation, but it looks like it’s coming down to we Wardens are supposed to support the Divine,” she shook her head in disgust.

“Guaranteed to get the mages ire up and against the Wardens,” he replied with feeling. She nodded her agreement. He saw how tired his mage looked.

“How long before you leave?” he asked her.

“I was hoping to be gone before the week was out.” Cullen looked at the chamber she had prepared for herself that had become their room rather quickly.

“How did we accumulate so much stuff?” he asked in awe. She reached out and took his hand in hers; pulling him to the fireside.

“Five years of staying in one place,” she answered. “It’s not so bad, I’ll be able to take most of it with me,” he shook his head in humor.

“I’ll make sure the rest gets sent to your estate,” he said and she gasped in shock.

“How-”

“You are terrible at keeping secrets from me, my love,” he said with a smile as he pulled her onto his lap in the chair before the fire.

“You snooped?” she asked. He smiled and nodded, kissing her deeply to forestall the rest of her retort. She gave a throaty chuckle as she returned the kiss.

* * *

Dawn was hours away but Bronwynn was suddenly wide awake. She was moving quickly; grabbing a sword and moving out the door before she realized what she was doing. There was a heavy pounding on the front door, Bronwynn could feel Templar’s on the other side and she quickly donned her armor; waking Cullen as she did so.

“Templars, out front,” she said to him while he quickly donned his own armor. He nodded his understanding but didn’t seem to care. She just shook her head and started down the stairs. Loudon was unhurriedly answering the door; in his house robe. Bronwynn found that amusing.

“Yes, Messers?” He said with total butler disdain.

“We need to speak with Knight-Captain Cullen, now. It’s urgent,” the one in the center said hurriedly. Cullen took the last steps down and stepped beside the butler when he heard the Templar’s voice.

“Inside, now,” he commanded and the four Templars moved inside the hall.

“Knight-Commander Meredith has rounded up the mages in the courtyard, again, Knight-Captain. First Enchanter Orsino is about to have an apoplexy. We have to do something,” the first man said again. There was an urgency there that even Bronwynn could feel. She saw how the four men looked to their Knight-Captain and she was proud. Her Templar was still a good man, despite all he’d been through.

Cullen sighed and looked at his mage, he’d wanted to spend more time with her.

“Go, you know how to see the blood taint as well as I do. Use it,” she said. He heard the regret in her voice, but knew she was right. He nodded and kissed her quickly before leading the Templars out.

“Knight-Captain, she really does understand?” She heard one of the younger men ask. His response was lost to the sound of their armor as they ran. She simply smirked and thanked Loudon before returning to bed.

The next morning broke cloudy and dark, dampening her mood. She made quick work of gathering the most important books and shrinking them to fit inside her back pack. She made sure to put several changes of clothes inside as well. She made sure she had plenty of potions and components as well as extra material for repairs to armor.

She sighed sadly as she looked around the room she’d shared with her lover for the last five years. Most of this would stay with the manor she was sure. She turned at a knock on the door and said enter. The young elf who had served as her lady's maid entered with tears streaming down her sharp face.

“Don’t cry, Elizita!!” Bronwynn cried out, pulling the girl into a hug.

“But you’re leaving us!” the girl wailed.

“Oh, dearest! I’m a Warden, that was going to happen sooner or later,” the mage said with tears in her own voice.

“I know, but … but,” the girl broke down into sobs again. “No one else will be as good to us as you have been,” she finally said after a few minutes.

“If I know Loudon, he’s already making plans to get you all to my estate in Ferelden,” Bronwynn confided. She knew the butler would rather serve her in that barbarian country than serve anyone else. He had made it clear over the years that he liked her.

“But you won’t be there!” the elf wailed again and this time Bronwynn laughed at her.

“Now you’re being silly!” she said with affection. The blond elf smiled with humor and nodded.

“You’ll be safe, Warden?” the girl asked as she began to move around the room, picking up things and placing them together for pacing.

“Aye, Elizita. I promise, I’ll be as safe as a Warden can be,” Bronwynn answered as honestly as she was able. The girl’s face clouded up again, but she did not cry.

“When will you be leaving?”

“End of the month. I am not travelling alone all the way to Val Royeaux. That’s asking for trouble,” Bronwynn grinned. The girl nodded and Bronwynn left to send a few birds.

* * *

Anders stood in the room he’d made for himself behind his clinic and surveyed his alchemical lab. Garrett had reluctantly helped him gather the last two components he’d needed. Anders thought perhaps his friend hadn’t quite believed him when he’d said it would help him separate himself from Justice. When Hawke had refused to distract the Grand Cleric for him he’d gotten angry although he truly didn’t blame the dark haired man.

Anders gathered up the bottles and carefully placed them in his packs. He knew he would have to be careful; yet he’d almost reached his end game. He knew that there was no longer any way to reconcile the Templars and mages; the Chantry had failed.

He could see now that mages were never going to be free. Justice had been right all along; it was up to him to make it  right - to correct this injustice.

Anders made his way to the Chantry Cathedral, greeting people he knew along the way, nodding to the guards; avoiding the gaze of the ever present Templars. He came up the Low Town entrance into the Chantry courtyard and up the stairs leading to the Chantry itself.

There weren’t many people in the Temple this afternoon, but they were all occupied and paid no attention to the blond scruffy looking man who entered the door. No one noticed the obvious mage make his way furtively into the store room on the right side of the entrance. When he emerged two hours later from the store room on the left and quietly left the building, the handsome scruffy man still went unnoticed.

There was a tiny voice; barely audible, in the back of his head asked if he was sure this was what he wanted to do: kill all these innocent people. Before he could do more than register the question Justice roared his need to act; drowning out the voice and the doubt.

  


Two months later Anders was agog at the notion of an ex-Warden being named Grand Enchanter. The news coming out of the College was more frustrating than anything else. The College of Enchanters was supposed to see! They were mages, they _knew_ how bad it was and shouldn’t let it keep happening. The Chantry wasn’t going to entertain anything that gave mages any more freedom than they already had; and would do all it could to take away those. This new Divine was no different than any other; she had done nothing to help the mages here in Kirkwall. Nothing to force the Knight-Commander out of her office, nothing to force the Grand Cleric to intervene.

Anders had decided to take a walk through the city, to try and clear his head. As he reached Hightown he heard grumblings from the nobility how Meredith was going to destroy them all if she didn’t let up on the mages. Meredith was insane, she should never have been allowed to take over the city.

The ex-Warden mage from the Anderfels felt the spirit inside him beginning to churn with anger. It was no longer just the mages suffering under the Templars. They had gone too far. Something had to be done; today - _now!_

Anders had walked his way towards the docks  and heard Hawke’s deep rumble as well as Meredith’s contralto voice.

Garrett Hawke was standing before both Knight-Commander Meredith and First Enchanter Orsino. Behind him were his friends Merrill, Fenris, Aveline, Isabela, and Varric. From the opposite side of the square Anders saw the Prince of Starkhaven, would-be Templar and all around annoyance. The Chantry Brother Sebastian Vael had moved to stand near the group with a frown on his face.

Anders had entered the square in time to hear Orsino commenting that Meredith saw blood mages everywhere to which Meredith responded that she knew but what else was she supposed to do. She had to be vigilant. She turned to Hawke and asked him if he knew a better way.

“You were offered a way to be sure, Meredith! You turned it down because it came from a _mage_!” Orsino said in exasperation. “I _will_ speak with the Grand Cleric!” he said. Anders was shaking his head as he walked closer. Meredith was clearly not going to allow the First Enchanter to do any such thing; and Anders knew it wouldn’t matter anyway. He had been there when Hawke had spoken with the woman about the issue; she clearly didn’t like mages any more than Meredith did.

“It’s too late for that, now,” The apostate mage said; there was sadness in his voice. A resignation that confused Meredith and Orsino; but before dark haired Garrett could intervene Anders lifted his hand and with a silent flash of light there was a sudden explosion.

It seemed surreal for a long moment. The Chantry bulged, then shrank in for a split-second, then flew apart into what looked like a hundred pieces. The sound of the explosion caused everyone in the square to duck, even though only small pieces of debris reached that far out. Thunderstruck silence filled the square before every person there turned to look at the apostate.

“What have you done?” Orsino shouted. “All those innocent people!” The horrified expression on his face was mirrored by everyone standing on the pier near the water.

“The time for negotiation has passed, now there can be no chance of reconciliation,” the abomination said, there was sadness in his own voice; as if he did regret the loss of life.

“A mage has killed the Grand Cleric,” Meredith said with both shock and pleasure. “I have no choice but to invoke the Right of Annulment,” the older woman’s faded blue eyes were alight with an unwholesome delight.

“He’s not even with our Circle! You can’t do this!” Orsino shouted, clearly in a panic.

“I must,” the blond woman said; and there was neither sadness nor regret, simply glee. “I will give you time to get the mages ready for the Annulment,” she told him, and although her tone was solemn, her posture was not.

The Templars and the mages all left the square, leaving Hawke alone with his companions. Anders sat on a crate with his back to his friend.

“How could you?” Garrett asked him, pain, horror and disgust clear in his voice.

“It had to be done,” Anders said wearily. “How else was I to get the mages to see; the Templars to acknowledge that change has to come,” the blond abomination sat with his shoulders bowed but head up.

“There were innocent people in that building, Anders,” Merrill said with tears in her voice.

“You’re worse than any blood mage, any abomination, Anders,” Fenris growled, his hands clenching into fists. Merrill had stepped closer to him for comfort, the only reason he hadn’t drawn his sword.

IsabelIa and Varric had closed their eyes and shook their head; neither able to say anything. Sebastian stared at the apostate mage with horror and rage in equal measure.

“Kill him, Garrett; or by the Maker I swear I will gather an army to bring down upon you and your’s and all of Kirkwall. Elthina was a good woman, a kind woman who did not deserve to die,” he cried out brokenly, unable to contain the rage and pain.

Hawke ignored all of them as he thought about all that he had been culpable in. He had helped  this man, nay this monster. Had befriended him.

“You used me,” Garrett said to Anders who shook his head.

“No, I told you, the choice is mine, the consequences mine to bear,” at that Hawke, Isabela and Varric laughed bitterly.

“We _helped_ you gather what you needed for this, Anders! That makes us culpable!” Varric exclaimed.

“And _if_ I get blamed for something; I want it to be something I _meant_ to do!” Isabela snapped at the man being so dramatic. “I personally had no stake in this conflict of yours, hell Anders,” she sneered.

“No one other than the mages and the Templars have a stake in this conflict of yours!” Fenris snarled at him.

“Yet now you’ve gone and turned the world against us mages, Anders,” Merrill said sadly.

Garrett blinked away tears; another death of a loved one on his head; more blood on his hands.

“I knew what the consequences were,” Anders said in a monotone voice.

“Yes, I’m sure you did;” Garrett said bitterly. “Do what you want and force someone else to clean up your mess,” there was a chorus of agreements behind him. Garrett closed his eyes and sighed heavily.

Six years of living in this city-state. Three years of being the Champion. Nearly a decade of dedicating his life to his new home; making a place for himself. He had given much to this place; blood, sweat and tears as well as his mother. If it hadn’t been for Bethany, Bronwynn, Varric, Isabela and the others he may have just left it to rot. The friends he had made had made it possible for him to move on from the disaster at Ostagar. They had helped him survive losing his Mother, even Anders had been there for him. And then...

Then, this one man; this mad fanatic, destroyed all of it. Possibly the rest of the world as well. The repercussions of this one act would be felt throughout all of Thedas for years to come. This single individual had decided that his new home; new hope, needed to be sacrificed in the name of free mages. Because _he_ felt hemmed in by the Circles, _he_ felt threatened by Templars.

Yes, even Garrett could see there had been problems with the Kirkwall Circle; the Knight-Commander was clearly insane and obsessed with blood-magic. Yet there had been hope. Bethany was proof of that, as was Bronwynn. The circle mage had taken a chance and taught an apostate mage new ways of controlling her magic. That apostate had then passed those lessons on to others creating a safer world because mages were no longer afraid of themselves.

Garrett shook his head and drew his dagger, he could hear Anders trying to justify his action; make it palatable.

Anders had just started a war; and no matter which side won the conflict, everyone lost. Because of a madman he had once called friend.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

Knight-Commander Meredith Stannard stood at the Kirkwall Gallows courtyard with her Templars arrayed behind her. Knight-Captain Cullen Rutherford stood at her right; his look of dismay a stark contrast to her look of manic glee. Orsino had begged her to rescind the Right of Annulment, telling her he’d allow her full access if only she would.

“The people of Kirkwall will demand retribution, and I will give it to them,”she had replied. Orsino accused her of madness once again; Cullen wondered just how far gone she was. The First Enchanter had basically surrendered yet she was insisting on killing the mages.

Hawke and his party had rallied the mages within and Cullen wasn’t looking forward to the fight ahead. He could practically feel Meredith’s excitement; however. She seemed to vibrate with it.

He said a silent prayer to the Maker that his mage was long away from this madness.

Meredith led the way into the Gallows, and the resistance was fierce. The first volley of fire splashed against his shield; he kept it angled down and forward to reflect the fire away from himself and the line.

“Templars, push!” Cullen cried and began to focus his mind on stemming the magic from the mages before them. For a brief moment he thought he saw a flare of red from Meredith as she too focused.

The first row of mages fell back to allow a fresh set of mages forward, they threw ice at the Templars. Cullen was was both saddened and grateful these mages didn’t have the training Bronwynn did. Saddened because they would die for the resistance, but grateful because fewer Templars would die due to the  inexperience of the mages.

The first room was cleared rather quickly; twelve mages struck down to a man. Behind a door he saw a small head peaking out, he frowned at the green eyes that were watching so fearfully and shook his head slightly. The child quickly and quietly closed the door; and Cullen hoped it was enough to keep it safe.

“Let none escape!” Meredith was shouting as they reached the next room. A larger hall that had been used; once upon a time, for training. Meredith hadn’t allowed any training to happen once she became Knight Commander; after she had arrested Viscount Threnhold. Cullen frowned as he and his men worked to subdue several mages who had proven beyond a doubt that they were blood mages by simply becoming abominations.

Three children were running away from a demon that had been summoned by another mage; Meredith cut them down as they ran before destroying the demon. Cullen felt sick.

Fire and lightning were erupting throughout the room, ice crackled on the floor as they tromped through, Cullen came upon four teenaged boys and four more children, all huddled in a pile under a table.

“We surrender, Knight-Captain, please, we want none of this!” The oldest boy cried, tears of fear running down his cheeks as he attempted to shield the small body from the swords that flashed.

“Kill them, Knight-Captain!” Meredith ordered and Cullen turned hot blue eyes to the crazed woman.

“Nay! They have surrendered, Knight-Commander; We do not kill mages who have surrendered!”

“They could be blood mages,” she began to shout at him and he interrupted her with a slashed hand.

“No, I have told you I know blood mages when I see them, these _children_ aren’t blood mages!” That the Knight-Captain was arguing with the Knight-Commander seemed to confuse many of the Templars. Meredith saw, however, that many of them were aligning themselves behind Cullen. She frowned at him; and again he could have sworn he saw red light flashing from her before she turned and led the way through the room. Cullen gave orders to the Templars he had taught to use the Sight to keep an eye out for those that had surrendered who were not blood mages and followed her.

Chaos reigned in the square. Pillars had been knocked down, all the trees were on fire, a ball of lightning was hanging in mid air crackling. Half the mages were fighting the Templars and the other half a Pride demon that had been summoned from behind them. Three more mages surrendered before the fighting got bad again; and Meredith seemed pleased when Cullen himself slit their throats. Cullen swallowed the bile rising in his throat as he watched the battle play out.

Meredith was a good swordsman, though her sword seemed off. She moved more quickly than he would have thought possible for a woman of her years, and that smile she wore as she took the life of a man or woman sickened him all the more.

The Templars reached the bridge into the mages chambers and came to a reluctant halt. They could hear sounds of battle coming from inside, yet their way was blocked. Cullen ordered archers to find higher ground, to perhaps take out the First Enchanter to break the mages will when a fountain of blood seemed to erupt from behind the gate.

It didn’t take long to figure out what happened. Both Cullen and Meredith could see First Enchanter Orsino as he ceased to exist; in his place came a Harvester demon. The monster seemed to soak up the corpses around it and as if it were trying to get more. The group that was fighting were fighting for their bodies as well as their lives. Cullen opened his mouth to order the Templars to help restrain the magic when Meredith ordered them back to the courtyard.

“We’ll see who makes it out of that,” Meredith told her second in command.

“And if it’s the Champion?” Cullen demanded.

“We’ll arrest him for helping the mages,” she said. Cullen wanted to believe her; and she sounded sincere. He nodded and sent the men up to get healed up and rested up as they waited.

Garrett Hawke walked from the prison as if a man defeated. His sister, Warden Hawke walked beside him with slow steps, the rest of his companions looking as dejected as their friend and leader.

“Surrender, Champion, lay down your weapons,” Meredith said harshly.

“You’re not satisfied with this day’s work, Knight-Commander?” The Champion asked wearily. “Killing nearly three hundred men, women and children didn’t sate your desire for destruction?”

“Magic is a cancer in the heart of our land, just as it was in the time of Andraste. And like her, we are left with no choice but to purify it with fire and blood.” Garrett gaped at the woman. “You chose to side with the mages, you too shall be put to the sword,” she finished.

“Knight-Commander, you said we were going to arrest the Champion!” Cullen shouted angrily.

“He has to die, don’t you see, or mages all over Thedas will think they can defy the will of the Maker!”

“I didn’t want to believe it, Meredith; but I see it’s true. Stand down, you are relieved of command.” Cullen said with regret. The blond woman sneered.

“I see the blood mages got to you too; they have corrupted even my Templars,” she said and drew her sword.

Varric and Garrett and Bethany recognized the figure that was part of the blade’s hilt. That the blade was red and seemed to glow caused them all no end of worry.

“Recognize it? The dwarf charged a pretty coin, but I made it my own,” her voice was sibilant with glee; everyone could hear the ecstasy as she spoke of the weapon.

When she attacked it was a shock and Garrett barely managed to avoid losing his head.

The fight was fast paced as Meredith moved almost like liquid. Cullen and the Templars were not exempt from her attacks, so stood with the Champion against the woman who seemed to have become a madness demon.

When she suddenly leaped to the top of a building and began shouting a prayer, the men and women were confused; and not a little frightened.

The statues coming to life caused everyone in the courtyard to band together. Garrett and Cullen looked at one another and nodded; as one they attacked Meredith when she landed in the courtyard. Cullen using every bit of strength he had to try and suppress whatever magic she was using. He wasn’t sure how a Templar was using magic, but that was what it felt like.

He didn’t realize he’d switched over to his Other Sight until he saw the damaged aura around his Knight-Commander. Normal Templars had a blank area in their aura’s, Cullen figured it was from where the lyrium blocked magic. Having seen what a blighted creature’s aura looked, like he knew that what he was seeing should have been impossible. In the area where that blank spot should have been from her use of lyrium, there was blight.

She was pulling power into herself, as well. He could see it as she soaked it up; and that’s when he realized it was her giving life to the statues. The battle became more hard pressed as the bronze statues from the courtyard began attacking as well.

Two hundred Templars, two apostate mages, two non-Templar bowmen, two non-Templar warriors and two-weapon fighters  found themselves becoming overwhelmed by one crazed woman.

Cullen took advantage of a moment of distraction that the Champion afforded him and landed a solid blow to her left arm, forcing her to drop her shield and her guard. Once more she leapt to the top of the building, shouting a prayer; begging the Maker for the strength to defeat her enemies, who were his enemies also.

“Varric, Sebastian! Someone take the shot!” Garrett shouted as he dodged more statues that were now coming down from the walls.

“I have!” Varric shouted back, anger and frustration clear in his voice. “They aren’t getting through that, whatever it is, red glow!”

“I have the same problem!” Sebastian shouted. “And my arrows are blessed! Urgh!” he took a hit to side from one of the metal golems before he was able to block it.

“Merrill? Can you stop it?” Fenris shouted as he forced several of the golems back from his lover.

“How?” Merrill asked, and for once she didn’t sound like she was distracted by something other than the fight.

“I don’t know, that’s why I asked,” he snapped at her.

“Well she’s not using magic I have ever seen before!” the Dalish elf replied with her own heat; startling a grin on her fierce elf’s normally grim face.

Bethany found herself channeling the energy from the fighting into her healing spells to keep the group from going down. Bronwynn had told her repeatedly that pulling energy from around her was far more reliable than lyrium and lasted longer; and now she could understand why.

She was able to go far longer and do so much more. She started to feel a different type of energy infusing the area, it felt very much like the energy that came off an Emissary.

Bethany pulled her sword from it’s sheath and began fighting her way to Merrill. She may be a blood mage, but Bethany knew the woman wasn’t tainted and could help her.

Aveline, Garrett and Cullen found a way to pen Meredith between them and keep her off guard enough to get in solid strikes. Her armor was a dented mess and blood was now flowing freely down her left arm and chest.

Bethany asked Merrill to help her with a spell just as Meredith held up the sword once more; she seemed to be faltering. Before any of them could press their advantage; however, they were hit with a stunning force as she rallied herself once more.

She began to zip around the courtyard in a frenzy, laughing maniacally as she struck random people with each movement. Bethany and Merrill quickly worked together to encapsulate the frenzied mad woman and drain her tainted power while Fenris joined Aveline, Garrett and Cullen in surrounding her once more. The Templar archers; led by Varric and Sebastian, trained their bows upon their former Knight-Commander while the other Templars focused on stopping the metal golems.

Garrett got one strong strike inside her guard, piercing her armor and puncturing her stomach.

Feeling her life’s blood flowing from her, feeling herself getting weaker, she once more called upon the maker, channeling her faith through her sword. Her voice was hoarse with fear, how could these blood mages defeat her?

She felt a burning in her hands from her weapon, a buzzing sound in her ears and saw the red light that began to surround her and began to panic. She screamed just as the sword exploded in her face; her body burned as it was consumed and transformed.

Knight-Captain Cullen blinked exhausted blue eyes at the sight of his former Knight-Commander. She was kneeling, arms held in front of her, encased in red stone. One of the Templars ran to her, kneeling in front of her but unable to find a place to touch the woman. Garrett and his friends stood with the Templars; just as confused. Cullen noticed several of the Templars raising their swords again, he waved them down.

“Stand down,” he said wearily. “The Champion is not our enemy.” The Templars all relaxed, and many seemed to sigh in relief.  Garrett nodded at the Knight-Captain, his own exhaustion clear with his slower movements. Clean up would take time, and Garrett was the one many of the people would look towards to lead that clean up.

* * *

**Dragon 9:38**

_Knight-Commander Cullen,_

_I have to admit, that is not a title I ever thought I would use when addressing you, Vhenan. I am sorry to hear so many horrible things coming out of Kirkwall; but I am grateful you live. I am also grateful you sent me a missive; if not an actual letter._

_I obviously made it to Val Royeaux, if not quite in the timely manner I had hoped to. Tevinter is looking for me; why I don’t know. There is some unrest there amongst the Magisters and Altus’; I’m hearing rumors of some cult calling themselves the Venatori. Nothing solid, I’m afraid - and I’m afraid it doesn’t look good for Orlais. Grand Duke Gaspard and Empress Celene are at odds; again. This time it looks to be serious, Gaspard has the army and Celene should know better than to antagonize him; but she will keep doing so._

_The worst news thus far, however, is that the Chantry has dissolved the College of Enchanters. Grand Enchanter Fiona will not stand for this; she will declare mages ‘free’ of the Chantry, no matter how bad that will be for most mages. It’s not looking good no matter how we look at it. Age of conflict, indeed._

_Ah, my heart, I miss you. Clarel has decided that I am to follow the Divine; and apparently that is because the Divine needed a mage for her bodyguard. Never mind she has a half dozen other Knight Enchanters - since they are all either First Enchanters to their Circle or Senior Enchanters in their Circles they are not allowed to leave to serve the Divine. This seems a waste, to me. Especially since I’d rather be either in Val Chevin or out at Weisshaupt working on curing the damnable blight. Then I think of you, and how you will always put your duty to the people first; and though I feel as if I am shirking that duty by serving the Divine I will not deny that this is a service as well._

_She is worthy, Cullen. She wants change, good change! She doesn’t want it all at once since that would cause more problems than it would solve, but she wants change. Justinia believes in Andraste, not the Chantry. She feels the Chant and_ teaches _the_ Chant _. You would love her, Vhenan. She and I discussed my opinion of the Templars, oh my love she was ashamed for all I had suffered. She would not let me pass it off as not her fault._

‘ _I was a lay sister, a Mother, a Revered Mother, a Grand Cleric and now the Divine-the actions of all are ultimately my responsibility.” I actually cried. She meant it; she meant_ it _! Oh, she wants there to be a better way. She believes that mages should be watched, but not prisoners. Templars need a better oversight; and a better training regimen._

_There was a dinner with Lord Seeker Lambert, Grand Enchanter Fiona, soon to be First Enchanter of Montsimmard and Enchanter to the Imperial Court Vivienne (or Madame De Fer as she is fondly called by the Court). The Right and Left hands of the Divine were also there, you remember Cassandra, yes? The Seeker who spent those hours with me actually attempting to learn how to use the Sight? There were a few others, whose names are unimportant because I cannot remember them. Don’t laugh, they were minor nobles anyhow. Okay, yes there were actually about ten others and you know how horrible I am with names._

_Lambert, is a … strange man. He seems to be interested in protecting the Chantry as a Seeker of Truth should, yet his abhorrence of mages is palpable. He spent the whole night sneering at Vivienne and myself in turns. I whispered to the Enchanter that I hoped he didn’t look at the Divine like that as I was sure his face was already in danger of freezing. Fiona, of course, behaved as if she were out of her element; which I am not sure anyone believed for a moment. She kept smiling; even when she thought no one was looking – and it was more of a sneer then._

_Fiona was the one to steer the conversation to my cure for the blight. A horrible conversation for dinner (Vivienne and Sister Leliana were scandalized) but the Divine was apparently interested in it as well. (Again, love stop laughing.) The discussion was lively, as many of those present had actually read my work. Now that actually pleased me; and I showed my youth as I blushed with pleasure. Vivienne assured me it was adorable; I retaliated by asking about her boots, Leliana backed me up on it._

_Eventually, the conversation came to the_ troubles _within the Circles. Now to this Vivienne and I both snorted while Fiona seemed to puff up._

 _I know I don’t like Templars in general, but I haven’t had the best experiences with them. You being the best example of Templars; and well let’s face it, I haven’t had many other good examples. Yet even I know that Templars; when they are decent men and women, serve to protect mages as well as laymen. Even I know that not all Templars are like the ones who hurt me. Fiona, however, actually stated that_ all _Templars were naught but armored thugs with permission to abuse mages. She cited Meredith as the rule, not the exception._

_To which Lambert stated that Kirkwall’s mages were the norm, not the exception. Vivienne noticed I was keeping silent; and since she knew I was recently out of Kirkwall she wanted to hear my opinion of the fiasco._

_Maker, Cullen; I wasn’t sure how to answer that._

_When I told them what we Wardens had witnessed: how many of the mages that fled the Circle were not blood mages, how many had been made Tranquil for the most minor of offenses -even after their Harrowing, how Meredith’s actions seemed to be more and more unstable, how Grand Cleric Elthina refused to intervene; ahh Maker the uproar this caused._

_Lambert called me a sympathizer, which made me laugh. Which then had the Divine calling for silence. She asked me what I thought the solution to blood magic was. Oh, Andraste if you had been there I would most likely have not said what I did._

‘ _Most Holy, blood magic is a tool that stopped being useful when the Elves were the only ones in all of Thedas._ If _one uses their_ own _blood it weakens them so they have less energy and can’t fight for as long; the power gained from it is wasted since it’s not actually the blood that gives one the power. Those who use the blood of others are just murders who feel they need an excuse to kill._

_Blood mages should be killed; because once they have tainted and stained themselves with the ill gotten power they won’t be able to reliably use anything else ever again. Many spells will actually react badly to the use of blood magic; even if one isn’t using blood magic to power that particular spell._

_There is a way to prevent as many blood mages from appearing, however. Not that the Chantry truly has any desire to either hear it or implement it.’_

_And there you have it my love; I finally got to tell someone in real authority how I felt about blood magic. Lambert latched onto the kill the blood mages part and went on about how that is what should happen to all mages, rather than making them Tranquil or putting them through the Harrowing. Fiona went off (at the same time) about how killing them was wrong because they could be saved from themselves, and that not all blood mages summoned demons. There were several nobles who were arguing that clearly the Maker wanted us to have mages since they kept being born, there must be a better way to help them; and I couldn’t keep my  mouth shut either._

_I made a bell tone to silence everyone and continued my diatribe._

‘ _If mages were actually taught to control their magic without being taught to fear it at the same time, there would be fewer blood mages. Confidence in one’s self helps prevent the desire for more power. Knowing that you were in control of yourself and_ trusted _to be so helps prevent the desire for more power._

_Should the Chantry stop teaching hate: hate of mages, hate of elves, hate of dwarves, hate period; then there would be less fear. Less fear would prevent people from trying to find an easy way to protect themselves. It would also, more than likely, prevent as many demons from trying to get through to our side of things because there would be fewer people wanting to kill the things that they were afraid of or hated._

_Education, Most Holy, is the key to preventing most bad things. If people are given a better understanding of the world around them, they are less likely to be afraid.’_

_Well my love, she smiled at me. She_ smiled _at me; and said she agreed. My heart, I thought the silence from that statement was going to suffocate us with it’s solidity._

_She then asked me how I personally dealt with blood mages. Specifically, how did I know for sure someone was a blood mage. When I tried to explain about Aural Sight, Lord Seeker Lambert interrupted and claimed I was lying. He refused to let anyone after that speak about anything that had to do with magic._

_Divine Justinia called the dinner over and we went on to other things; but she has asked me to speak with her more about the sight._

_Madame de Fer has also asked me to discuss the sight with her; which I understand to mean she recognizes the importance. Social climber that she is, she understands power on many different levels and has been an active voice among the mages to seek moderation. She isn’t part of any fraternity, is very pro-Circle; but she is also the Mistress of Duke Bastian and is an actual advisor to the Empress. _

_Sister Nightingale comes to my rooms every night to talk. She saw me playing with my engagement ring and asked about it. I was missing you something fierce that night so I told her about you. For all she is the Left Hand of the Divine; Justinia’s spymaster, she giggled like an apprentice when I told her about us. She claims she is going to speak with the Divine about our marriage; since I know how badly I want to be your wife I didn’t argue with her._

_It is late here, my love and I have a long day ahead of me. I miss you, yes I said it earlier, but it’s true. Dream good dreams of me, and please be safe._

_Yours in love_

_Bronwynn Amell_

  


Cullen sighed as he finished reading the letter for the third time, chuckling softly as he thought about her interacting with the Court of Orlais. His mage had only lightly dealt with Circle politics, she wouldn’t do that well in that cut-throat environment.

He was amazed that she like the Divine, however. Bronwynn believed in Andraste, but she wasn’t big on the Chantry. She felt as if the Chantry had failed her.

He was relieved, however, to know she had made it to Val Royeaux. Garrett had sent word about Tevinter looking for southern mages; especially her. The last thing he wanted was for her to end up a slave in Tevinter; for that he would start his own exalted march.

“Knight-Commander,” he heard from the hall, just before a knock on the open door sounded. Cullen shook his head, but said nothing more than speak.

“We’ve found Seneschal Bran and his son, they were hiding in one of the wings of the Viscounts palace,” Cullen barked laughter at that.

“And of course the servants wouldn’t tell us a thing,” he sighed with humor. “Call the nobles together, we need someone to run this blighted city,” Cullen ordered. The Knight nodded and left.

Time would tell if the decisions he’d made over the last few weeks were good ones. He was tired and missed his Mage. After all they had been through he just wanted her near.

He closed his eyes for a moment and was startled awake by someone clearing their throat.

“Sorry Knight-Commander, but you wanted to oversee the training of the new Knight’s yourself.” His friend from Starkhaven reminded him. Cullen nodded and roused himself from his chair; running his fingers across the folded letter briefly before adjusting his armor and heading out.

* * *

**Dragon 9:40**

_Dearest Knights-Divine Amell_

_Knights-Divine? Second in command of the Templars? A_ **mage** _even? My darling, what did you do to impress her that much? How did the Templars not rebel over that alone? Never mind, love, I’m not sure I want to know._

_Please tell me you are not in Val Royeaux, I heard that with the Empress out of the capitol they have closed the Sun Gates due to the unrest. I imagine the citizens of Orlais are utterly scandalized and demanding they be reopened immediately._

_Is there any news on the whereabouts of the Empress? Since the alienage was ordered purged, I imagine she must have been in Halamshiral at some point. I would prefer it if you were far away from any civil war, most especially as war is never civil. This world has seen too much conflict these last two decades, I wonder if we will see peace in our lifetimes._

_I would you were here instead of anywhere near the troubles up there; but I think I’ll be leaving Kirkwall sooner than later. Seeker Pentaghast has approached me about joining the Inquisition. Is this your doing? No matter if it is or isn’t, after all I’ve witnessed through the Circle’s and the Chantry we need change; and Divine Justinia’s Inquisition may be the catalyst for that change we need. Especially after the events in the White Spire. So many needless deaths._

_Please let me know you are safe, my love. It will be the only peace of mind I have._

  


_Yours,_

_Cullen Rutherford_

* * *

_Vhenan,_

_I write with a heavier heart than I would prefer. All those mages and Templars, killed for nothing more than fear. Lambert has said the Nevarran Accord no longer applies; his response to the tragedy. Diarsmuid Circle was annulled. Even the children and Tranquil; Maker Cullen, children and Tranquil._ **(Here there are tear stains on the page)**

_No, love, we aren’t in Val Royeaux, we’re traveling in the hopes of finding Templars and Seekers who are still loyal to the Divine. Loyal mages are flocking to Val Royeaux to be closer to Vivienne since Fiona and the College declared themselves free of the Chantry. Andraste it’s a mess._

_As for my new title; apparently the Knights-Vigilant  Tavish agreed with the Divine that my contributions towards the safety of the citizens of Thedas and my devotion to Andraste, if not the Chantry, prove that even mages are capable of serving. He wasn’t keen on the idea at first, but after we spent several hours in forced conversation he decided he liked me._

_Also, I think the man was afraid to argue with Most Holy as Justinia wanted a reason to keep me close as one of her personal aides/bodyguards. As the only Knight Enchanter not tied to a Circle due to my status as a Warden she wants me close._

_Yes, Celene was at Halamshiral; and purging the alienage has to have been the dumbest thing she’s done yet. It was so clear that Gaspard was behind the uprising, he may not play the game as well as she does but he played her well with that one._

_I could have had something to do with Cassandra seeking you out, but of course your record speaks for itself. You’ve handled the situation in Kirkwall with aplomb and your men are loyal to you. My speaking well of you she takes with a grain of salt, seeing as I don’t hide my affection for you. She doesn’t behave as if it is a great sin, however; so I suppose that is one good thing._

_Please tell me you know where to find Garrett? Cassandra is looking for him, Leliana is looking for Cousland; they’re trying to find someone who would be a good leader for this Inquisition that Most Holy is assembling. I am not sure how well a Chantry backed Inquisition would work, but we are going to need something to break this cycle. As you say, we need change._

_I wish I could tell you I was safe. Safer than most, I suppose; but with the Templars and Seekers actively searching for mages to kill - no matter if they are Loyalist or not - I find I’m not even safe with the Divine. These men and women have turned against the Chantry and the Divine as it’s representative. They claim the Chantry failed them; I suppose I can see how they would feel that way. As a mage I feel the Chantry had never been there for me to begin with, but the Circle was at least a safe place for me to learn and practice._

_Be well, Vhenan. Since you’re joining the Inquisition I’ll be seeing you soon._

  


_All my love,_

_Bronwynn Amell_

* * *

**(In a shaky hand)**

_Bron,_

_I am sorry my handwriting is so shaky.  The last time I wrote was the last time I took lyrium. I knew it would be hard, but I didn’t want that leash tying me to the Chantry any longer. Now I understand what you meant when you said that it is a drug, my love. I knew we needed it as Templars, but this … craving; maker I often feel as if I am lost._

_We are leaving Kirkwall at the end of the month, Seeker Pentaghast has insisted we bring Varric Tethras with us; I’m not very clear on why. I think she’s a fan of his work. He claims to not know where the Champion is; somehow I am not sure I believe it, the two were thick as thieves._

_I hope you are still with Most Holy, my heart; I miss you more than ever. Mostly because I’m certain you have some way of alleviating the pain without making me dependent upon something else. Yes, yes, go ahead and laugh at your Templar; ex-Templar now I suppose. This letter should reach you shortly before I do._

_I can write no more today, forgive me. I will be better before we reach Haven. One more month, I know I can hold myself together that long._

  


_Cullen_

  


The passage across the Waking Sea had been long and arduous, but a blessing for Cullen as it actually helped him deal with the worst stages of the lyrium withdrawal. He had told only Bronwynn of his action; he didn’t want anyone codling him or thinking he couldn’t do his job.

The dwarven bard had apparently decided Cullen needed a friend since he seemed to spend quite a bit of time around the warrior; and Cullen grudgingly admitted he appreciated the distraction the dwarf gave him.

Then again, the poor dwarf seemed truly out of his element once they were on their way to the Temple of Sacred Ashes in Haven by horseback. He used very colorful language at the end of every nights riding for the first week. By the end of the second week he was a better rider, however.

“Bronto’s are bad enough; don’t know why Dwarves want to ride anything but why would you put me on a _horse_ he would mumble every now and again. “Just put me in the cart! It’d be safer!” which would usually cause those around him to snicker or grin.

“Commander! A rider approaches,” one of the Nightingales scouts cried as she came riding back, Cullen nodded and called a brief halt to the caravan. The rider that came into view was wearing Chantry colors, if not robes. She bore the Mark of the Divine upon her breast and Cullen gave a discreet signal to lower weapons. The Templars and Seekers who were marching with the caravan had proven to desire solid leadership. Cassandra could command the Seekers; they would obey her-but she was much better suited to smaller sorties. The Templars had gladly begun taking orders from the Knight-Commander of Kirkwall. When Cassandra had deferred to Cullen’s orders the Seekers had quickly followed suit.

The rider came to a halt, her horse breathing heavily. Before Cullen could give an order, one of the younger squires broke ranks and grabbed the horse’s lead, fussing at the woman not to stop him dead like that. Cullen smiled as the poor woman wearily dismounted to let the boy walk the horse to cool him down.

“My apologies, Lord Commander; we have ridden hard for three days. Most Holy wished these missives to reach you and her agents before you arrived in Haven. There have been strange rumors and...well; here M’Lord Commander,” she held out a packet and he took it. He gestured to another squire who quickly took charge of the exhausted messenger; a third squire ran farther back in the line to pass on to Cassandra and Leliana they had messages.

“She writes, thank the Maker,” he mumbled to himself as he put a small envelope inside his cloak. He then looked around and gestured to a scout on the edge of the line. When the man came forward he asked if there were a suitable place to make camp close. When given the affirmative he ordered the men to follow the scout.

Leliana and Cassandra joined him two hours later as soon as the command tent had been assembled. He had already read the messages from the Divine and now simply waited for them to digest the information. He didn’t hide that he was reading another letter; yet neither woman questioned him about it. He had to believe his mage when she said they both knew and did not care.

“Commander, does the Warden say anything in her letter about the Wardens?” Leliana asked suddenly, startling him out of his reverie. He frowned and quickly rescanned the letter before nodding.

“Yes, she said she had come across three Warden Mages who weren’t supposed to be there. They tried to kill her; and failed. My mage is disappointed in them for having failed,” Cullen replied with his dry wit. Cassandra frowned and asked the obvious question.

“Shouldn’t she be delighted they failed?”

“One would normally say yes, Seeker; but my mage seems to think otherwise. Her exact words are ‘ _I can’t believe Warden mages were so undisciplined, henna. One would think they had never fought Darkspawn with how weak their attacks were._ ’” he sighed and shook his head.

“We should pick up the pace,” Cullen went on after a moment. “With the current intelligence we should get there sooner,” he motioned towards the messages the Divine had sent her agents. They nodded their agreement. They departed to give their orders and to their respective men and women.

Cullen sighed as he settled down for night. Bronwynn had also written that she and the Divine were spending a lot of time at the Temple where the Ashes had been. She said Justinia often prayed for guidance in the mornings before the two groups met. It was the only time she was truly alone, and even then it was only because the room had one entrance.

He allowed himself to settle into his sleeping roll, his last thought before sleep took him was a payer that the dreams would give him some peace this night.

  


Two days hard march later, not even Varric was complaining as they reached the foot of the village. The sun was late in the sky, but they hadn’t reached the lunch hour. It was clear the village was ill equipped to deal with the number of visitors it had; especially with so many of them being mages. Even Cullen could feel the fear that permeated the air.

There was a sudden rumbling from the mountain; and he could feel the ground shake as he dismounted. Like everyone else he turned his face towards the mountain.

At first the green light that covered the mountain was all he saw, when he realized the mountain looked like it was taking a deep breath. On the exhale the mountain looked like a puzzle that had was being shaken apart; all the pieces flying outward in  slow motion. Then there was a deep cough that shook him to his knees. His only thought was her name. 


	31. Chapter 31

**Dragon Age Inquisition**

**Chapter 31**

“What do you mean she is a prisoner? Knights-Divine Amell was Most Holy’s personal guard, she wouldn’t have harmed Most Holy!” Bronwynn could hear Seeker Pentaghast outside the room she was being held in. She managed to move into a sitting position on the side of the cot and waited for the guardsmen to let the Seeker in.

“Maker! Are you alright?” Leliana asked as she rushed into the room and undid the manacles binding the mages hands. Bronwynn rubbed her wrists briskly once they were unbound.

“Aye, Sister Lei; I am physically okay,” Bronwynn smiled at the pixie faced woman.

“Physically?” Cassandra said as she followed the more energetic woman. “What happened?” she demanded

“I don’t know, exactly,” She held up the hand with a green light glowing from a tear in her hand. The green light was the same as the color of the tear in the sky and pulsed with the same beat. “I remember creatures, running, and a woman, then nothing until I woke up here,” the redhead shook her head as she said this.

“A woman?” Leliana said in shock, Bronwynn nodded.

“What has happened?” Bronwynn asked the two agents of the Divine. “Where is Justinia?”

“Dead,” Cassandra said bluntly. “Along with everyone else who was at the Conclave that morning,” she went on. Bronwynn frowned.

“Wait? What? How can that be? I was at the Temple with Most Holy!” Bronwynn interrupted.

“They said you stepped out of a rift in the sky,” Cassandra told her as the three left the cell she was in. Bronwynn was blinded by the light in the sky. “Three days ago.” Bronwynn shivered at the sound of desperation in the Seeker’s voice.

“Three days?” Bronwynn asked. “The Divine dead? Maker, what happened?”

“We aren’t sure, but many are saying you killed the Divine,” Leliana said. Bronwynn shook her head.

“Never,” she replied vehemently. Both women nodded their agreement.

“We know only that the mark on your hand is our only hope to sealing the hole in the sky we’re calling The Breach,” Cassandra turned to the Warden Mage as she finished speaking.

“Demons are falling from the Breach, Warden. The only way you’re going to prove your innocence is by helping close it.” Bronwynn laughed at the irony.

“My innocence in the hands of the Chantry; yes Seeker I can see that going my way,” she shook her head and clenched her marked hand in a fist. “I will do what I can to stop this Breach and heal the sky; and I’ll do it whether it will prove my innocence or no. Just promise me one thing,” she said to the Divine’s left hand.

“What is that?” Cassandra asked.

“No matter what happens to me, you find out who killed the Divine!” Bronwynn replied with feeling. Cassandra and Leliana nodded. “Let’s go close that Breach,” Bronwynn said.

  


Cassandra and Bronwynn made good time to where the earnest fighting was, well before the forward camp. When they came up on the first Rift, Bronwynn found herself truly shocked by the demons that were there. The fighting was intense and she and  was grateful she wasn’t the only mage fighting.

The elven mage grabbed her hand; shouting about closing the rift as soon as the last demon screamed it’s death. She felt the power pulsing in her hand and automatically began to focus on the energy; pulling it to her and willing it to close the hole.

When the rift was closed she heard her spirit friends sighing in relief. She mentally asked if they needed to leave her; needed to go somewhere safer. Their response gave her no comfort as they told her that where she was was as safe as anywhere else.

Cassandra and the elf were talking, as was a dwarf she thought was familiar.

“Varric?” Bronwynn said with astonishment.

“Yes Jade, I’d say it was good to see you, but under the circumstances,” he shrugged at the green eyed mage and gave her his patented roguish grin. Bronwynn smiled back and shook her head, turning then to the elf. There was something in his eyes that disturbed her. Although his aura was clean of any evil or taint it also seemed to be pulsing between two different auras.

“I am Solas, if there are to be introductions” the elf said pleasantly. Varric made a comment about him having kept her alive.

“Well, that had to be an interesting feat, what with this mark,” she commented. “I thank you, though, for the assistance,” Bronwynn said to be polite; and she was certain she heard the spirits that followed her giggle.

“You are welcome, although I am not sure I did much to help. Seeker,” he said to Cassandra. “I theorize the Mark may be able to seal the Breach if given enough power; yet I find it hard to imagine any mage with that much power,” Cassandra smiled at the elf.

“Our Warden has many hidden talents, I imagine she’ll figure out how to power the mark as well.” Bronwynn gave a brief snort of laughter.

“We can discuss it once I’ve seen the Breach up close. I have my doubts at this point. Shall we move on?” She turned to the blocked road just as Cassandra pointed to a way around the rubble. Bronwynn found she could feel the Breach pulling at her through the mark on her hand. She shook her head with worry. She had never wanted more power than she already had, yet now she had just that.

  


They found Leliana at the forward camp speaking with a man in Chantry robes. They could be heard arguing from a hundred yards away. As the four approached them Leliana broke off arguing.

“I’m glad you made it, this is Chancellor Roderick,” Leliana began. Bronwynn nodded at the spymaster.

“Yes, we’ve met.” She nodded to the Chantry Brother who had never approved of her being one of the Divine’s personal guards. It had been his voice that had spoken out most against her when the Knights-Vigilant had been approached by Most Holy about giving her the Templar designation of Knights-Divine.

“Knights-Divine, bah. You killed the Most-Holy! I knew it was wrong to allow you anywhere near the Divine!” He raised his voice in both anger and jealousy. Bronwynn shook her head in disgust.

“I didn’t kill her, Chancellor. I wanted to help her fulfill her goals for the Chantry.” She said; and it was clear to all this was an old argument for the young woman.

“Call a retreat, Seeker,” he said with disdain. Cassandra sneered at him for his cowardice.

“We have a chance to stop this now, before it gets worse, and we are going to take it!” She turned to Bronwynn.

“Which way should we take to get to the Temple, Knights-Divine?” Cassandra asked, and Bronwynn could see the delight she took in using that title in front of this wormtongue of a man.

“We’ll take the mountain pass, I’d like to live to get to the Breach,” Bronwynn answered with humor. Cassandra didn’t like it but that’s how they went.

The Breach was much higher in the sky than Bronwynn had thought, but the rift that was on site was clearly linked to it. Bronwynn was just as confused by the echo from the fade as everyone else; it triggered nothing in her memory and that bothered her.

The Pride demon they fought was tougher than most she’d ever had to deal with, but with all of Leliana’s scouts helping it was manageable. Closing the larger rift caused her to fall unconscious, but it was closed.

  


Bronwynn groaned as she opened her emerald green eyes and winced at the bright light. She felt the bed shift and smelled a familiar scent at the same time. It made her smile before she reached out to touch the man who went along with the scent.

“Vhenan,” she said hoarsely. He chuckled softly as he handed her cup of water. She drank slowly before opening her eyes again. When her emerald eyes met his glacier blue she smiled even wider.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” he said to her. She heard a wealth of pain in that statement.

“Vhenan,” she whispered as she reached up to cup his cheek. “I may not remember much of what happened but I remember this; my only thought was getting back to you,” she told him. She watched as his shoulders relaxed.

“You are one very popular woman right now, my heart,” he said as he moved to let her stand.

“What do you mean?” she asked him as she slowly stood. “Are they still calling for my head?” she asked him.

“Roderick is, but I think it’s more because he needs someone to blame and you’re convenient,” Cullen helped her back into her leathers, wondering to himself who had actually disrobed her. “No, they are calling you the Herald of Andraste; and we’re going to let them do so,” he told her by way of warning. She shook her head and sighed.

“I am no Herald of anything, much less of Andraste herself,” she said to the man she loved. He gave her his crooked grin and pulled her close for a kiss.

“I can’t stay long, there are a million things that need my attention with the soldiers; we took heavy losses before you shut down the Breach; but I will take you to the Chantry,” she leaned into him for a moment, soaking up some of his strength.

“Very well, Vhenan. Once more unto the breach,” she said softly. He kissed her once more before opening the door.

Upon seeing the crowd that was gathered outside the door to the house she had been sleeping in she was grateful her Templar was with her. Her first instinct was to slam the door shut and hide; so many eyes staring at her. There was silence for a long moment when she and Cullen stepped outside the hut; then one person started clapping, then five more, and another ten until the small village was filled with the dull roar of hundreds of people applauding the mage who had saved them from the demons.

Cullen felt her fingers clench on his elbow where she was holding his arm; he placed his right hand on top of hers and squeezed her fingers gently. She looked up at him and took a deep breath before smiling; her mask firmly in place. He walked proudly beside her as they made their way up the hill to the cathedral. There were a few dissenters among the crowd, but Cullen knew she would let none of it break her facade. She’d had years of practice at showing people what they wanted to see.

They reached the doors to the cathedral and he turned her towards him and kissed her again before stepping back and bowing to her. She gave him a real grin and curtsied back before entering the chapel on a wave of thunderous applause and a deafening roar of approval.

  


Bronwynn entered the room at the back of the cathedral to hear Roderick claiming she had wanted to leave the Breach open.

“Yes, because it makes so much sense for me to have done that, Chancellor. After all; if I pretend to be unable to seal it completely I’ll have to pretend that I care about the people. When obviously, if I had done what you claim in the first place, I wouldn’t care one iota for the people of Thedas,” she said to him with such sarcasm even he couldn’t fail to hear it.

“For all we know, yes that is how you wanted it,” he insisted, and everyone in the room heard the whine in his voice. “Chain her, I want her prepared for trial at Val Royeaux!” Before Bronwynn could respond Cassandra interrupted.

“Disregard that order and leave us,” she said. The two Templars saluted with right arms across the chest and left the room.

“You walk a dangerous line, Seeker,” Roderick said with menace.

“Because a glorified page boy thinks he has power with the Divine gone?” Bronwynn asked him with her own. He flushed a deep red but gave the mage no response. Leliana smiled a small smile at her score. “I did all that I could, Roderick; it nearly killed me,” Bronwynn went on to say.

“Yet here you are, a convenient thing for you, yes?” Bronwynn snorted at him.

“Have a care Chancellor, Knight’s-Divine gave the same oath of Service I did. Not only that, but I heard the voices at the Temple; Most Holy called out to her,” Bronwynn narrowed her eyes slightly but said nothing. How Cassandra chose to interpret the events was up to her. It didn’t escape her; however, that Leliana didn’t share the same sentiment.

“I am a suspect?” he asked incredulously. “Not the prisoner?”

“Oh give over, Chancellor, she was not a prisoner ever,” Leliana snapped. “The guards had her under lock and key for her safety. You started calling her a prisoner,” she took three steps closer to the man; and Bronwynn saw him flinch as well as Leliana did. “You wanted to take away what power she may have had in organizing the crisis. Too bad for you we had arrived early, no?” Bronwynn let herself smile outwardly at how the older man flinched with each hard sound from the Orlesian Lay Sister.

Cassandra had stepped to a table against the back wall and picked up a familiar tome. She placed in hard on the table before the Chancellor.

“Do you know what this is?” she asked him, her tone clear that of course he did not; could not know. He was that unimportant. “It is a writ from the Divine herself, reinstating the Inquisition,” she intoned solemnly.

“You cannot do this,” he said, mustering up what little authority he had.

“As she is the Left Hand of the Divine, she has more authority than  you do Chancellor; I’d have a greater care were I you,” Bronwynn reminded him. The Chancellor puffed up his chest as if to say something, but realized the three women in the room did have more power with the Chantry than he did and so fled the room.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Cassandra?” Bronwynn asked.

“We aren’t ready,” Leliana said.

“What choice do we have?” the Seeker asked and neither woman could answer that. With the Breech closed but not healed and the Templars and Mages back at one another’s throats something needed to be done. Justinia V had been determined to bring about the Inquisition; so the Right and Left Hands of the Divine followed her will.

* * *

Bronwynn used the rest of the day to organize what mages were still at Haven as well as to call in all the Wardens she knew were in Ferelden and Orlais. She knew the mages were going to be under a lot of scrutiny and she wanted to be sure they all understood where they stood with her.

She was unsurprised to see some of the mages were antagonizing the ex-Templars among the Inquisition soldiers. She stepped in to stop them, unwilling to stand by and allow needless bloodshed or to allow ill will to grow when the Templars who were here wanted peace.

“You are a mage, why do you stand with these brutes, Herald?” the older man snarled, Bronwynn just shook her head. He was full of rage. She heard the Compassion spirit whispering and gave the man a softened frown.

I must ask your name, Senior Enchanter, I am afraid I don’t know it.

“Marcus, Herald,” he said with a grudging politeness.

“Thank you Senior Enchanter Marcus. I stand with the Templars, Senior Enchanter because not all Templars wish we mages dead. Not all Templars think mages maleficarum in waiting; Senior Enchanter,” Bronwynn answered reasonably. She waited for the mage to deny it as most mages would.

“No,” he said, but he said it with bitterness. “Some would just make Tranquil so they could abuse us without remorse!”

“True, just as some mages would use equally foul means to control or abuse others,” Bronwynn replied, with her own bitterness. She watched the man’s face as he tried to find a way to deny the statement he knew was true.

“It does not make what they do right,” he spat. She nodded her head in agreement.

“No, it doesn’t. Yet these Templars did not come seeing _you_ , Marcus; you came seeking _them_ ,” he once again tried to find a way to make it their fault. He deflated when he could not.

“Senior Enchanter, we must all work together to solve this mystery of the hole in the sky. If you came to be part of the Conclave you came to be part of the solution; do not make yourself the problem,” Bronwynn said softly, reasonably.

“And what of these Templars?” he asked her angrily.

“Many of these men and women  came with Commander Cullen. He came to join the Divine with the same hopes as she: to end the madness,” she then gestured to the Templars who had stepped back to give her room to speak with the mages. The man appeared frustrated.

“I do not want them breathing down our necks; making us feel as hemmed in as we did in the Circles,” the man said. It wasn’t a whine, but only because of the fear. Bronwynn could see several of the Templars shifting in discomfort.

“The men and women who choose to be Templars wish to serve; yes, some of them like the power it gives them over mages. Yes, some of them use that power to abuse mages; yet those men and women are out in the Hinterlands, fighting mages who want the freedom to use their magic to do the same,” she gestured to the Templars again.

“Look at the Templar’s assembled here, Senior Enchanter. They are uncomfortable with your accusations. Change must start here, now,” she made sure he could hear the sincerity in her voice.

“They will accuse us all of blood magic eventually,” he said softly. She looked at his aura, he wasn’t a blood mage; but as she checked the mages arrayed behind him she could see there were about a dozen blood mages.

“Yes that may happen. To preempt the accusations, would you like the ability to see who they are before the accusations start?” Bronwynn asked him. He looked startled.

“You can actually see that?” he gasped. “It’s not just a rumor?” she smiled sadly at him.

“My life in my circle was a torment from fellow mages, Marcus. I had to learn every trick I could to defend myself,” she sighed and looked at the mages again.

“How?” he asked.

“We can all see auras, we mages,” she said. He nodded. “If you focus on the part of the aura closest to the body you can see more than just their magic,” she instructed. “Instinctually you will know what their aura’s are showing,” she smiled at his look of doubt. “I taught this to Templars, Marcus. They were able to tell; try it and you will see for yourself.”

She waited while he did as she instructed, and heard his gasp when he realized what he was seeing when he looked at her. She nodded when he blinked at her; then waved to the mages behind him. His groan of dismay assured her he had seen what she had.

“You don’t want the Templars hounding you, you want the freedom to practice magic as you will; but to the people of Southern Thedas doing what the mages of Tevinter do isn't the answer,” he looked at her with a frown.

“But being locked away isn’t an answer; either,” she nodded her agreement.

“True, and there are things we can do that will help prevent mages from turning to blood magic,” she sighed. “That is, however, a topic for another day. What are you going to do about these twelve men and women?” she pointedly asked him.

“What? Why ask me?”

“You are their chosen spokesperson, their chosen _leader_ ,” she pointed out. He took a deep breath and held it for a long moment.

“I can’t decide that on my own,” he said. She noticed the slight panic in his voice. She waited silently while he worked out what he wanted to say. He looked back at the Templars, Cullen had joined the group and was being caught up by one of the men.

“Knight-Commander!” the mage said with desperation, Cullen shook his head as he stepped forward.

“That is not my title any longer,” he said. Bronwynn saw his fingers flex on the hilt of his sword when he noticed the blood mages. She knew he wanted to act; but he also knew she was proving a point. He stood at her back and reluctantly took his hand off his sword to put it on the small of her back. Bronwynn was surprised again, the second time he had shown publicly they were together. Of course, this also showed he was backing up her decision.

“Co-commander,  what will you do about-” the mage stammered. Cullen began shaking his head with the word ‘you’.

“You must start as you mean to go on, Senior Enchanter. You want your freedom from the Chantry then you must take responsibility for yourselves,” Bronwynn said when the man had stopped speaking.

“ _We_ must decide?” he said faintly. Bronwynn and Cullen both nodded. “I-I can’t decide for everyone,” he said as his voice firmed up.

“No, I don’t suppose you can,” Bronwynn said dryly. “You just expect others to make that choice for you,” he frowned at her.

“Blood magic is a tool!” he shouted, garnering the attention of all the mages. “It is not inherently evil!” she could hear the frustration in his voice. She laughed at him, startling him into silence. All the mages had gathered closer to them so she didn’t have to raise her voice very much.

“Blood magic is a tool that stopped being useful when the Elves were the only people in Thedas,” Bronwynn said with disdain. “If you use your own blood, it weakens you while not giving you nearly enough power to make up for it-and the power is short lived,” she made sure she looked at the twelve blood mages as she gazed across the group.

“If you are using another’s blood-willing or not- to get power, you still aren’t getting enough power to make it worthwhile unless you kill the person. Which just makes you a murder,” She turned her eyes back to Marcus.

“Blood magic wouldn’t leave a stain on your Aura if it were _just_ a tool,” she finished. She watched the blood mages shift uncomfortably when she finished speaking.

“It can be used for good,” one of them shouted defensively.

“Then why is your aura stained with blood?” she asked him.

“I needed the power to, to, to-” he broke off when he realized what he had said.

“Warden Amell has taken on ogres and never resorted to blood magic,” Cullen said with his training ground voice so it carried without him having to raise it. “What could you have fought that you needed extra power?” he asked the man who was obviously trying to find a way to make his statement better.

“Th-the Templars were attacking, I-I had to defend myself,” he stuttered, cringing as most of the other mages began backing away from him.

“Ser mage, you had to defend yourself?” Bronwynn asked with humor. He was obviously nervous now, and she watched his hands. She didn’t stop watching the others; however and when the only woman blood mage threw her arm forward, a knife flashing as it flipped through the air to bury itself in the first bloodmage’s back. Bronwynn quickly pulled the man towards her, healing him as she also shielded him from any other attacks and prevented her from using the blood magic.

“Bas!” she shouted at the woman who’s look of shock was spreading across the other ten blood mages’ faces. “Why attack him?” she shouted at the woman. Bronwynn handed the startled mage to Cullen, who held the man’s arms firmly behind him.

“He deserves to die, he’s a blood mage!” she shouted; Cullen shook his head and made a hand gesture that only the Templars could see. Bronwynn felt the Templars beginning to solidify reality around the mages.

“Then so do you,” Bronwynn said simply.

“Not today!” she shouted just as Bronwynn made her own gesture with her right hand, whispering a word no one could hear as she did so.

Cullen had never actually seen her take the magic from anyone. He knew that she and Irving had argued for days over the theory and weeks over whether or not it should be used. He knew that she had won in the end; although she had told him it was no victory.

Watching what she did through his _Sight_ frightened him, because he could see what it took from her when she did it. That she did it to all twelve mages at once caused him to shove the mage he was holding towards another Templar and reach out to hold her shoulders. He was amazed that she stood rock steady even after the massive drain to her.

The woman had tried to summon a demon, and gasped in shock when she couldn’t touch the Fade. Bronwynn’s green eyes glittered with unshed tears, although her face stayed stony. She turned to look at Marcus.

“Senior Enchanter; I’m sure you watched all of that with your new _sight_?” she asked the now terrified man. He nodded with shock. “Understand, this is how _I_ choose to deal with blood mages if I can. It is as bloodless as Tranquility; although it allows the mages to keep themselves,” she looked at the eleven people in front of her; all of whom were attempting to cast some sort of magic.

“What did you do?” The man behind her wailed.

“I took away your magic; your connection to the Fade,” she answered. Her body was stiff but he could see she was ready for a fight.

“That’s impossible,” Cullen heard a Templar behind them say. Bronwynn shook her head, and everyone there knew it was with a heavy heart she replied.

“Nay; it is far too easy to do - just as making a mage Tranquil is,” she stepped back so she was in the shelter of Cullen’s arms. “I will not teach this. Ever,” she said to the crowd. “It would be abused just like Tranquility has been abused,” Again she looked at the Senior Enchanter.

“If we mages are to be free of the Chantry we must be willing to police ourselves and follow the laws laid down by the governments,” she closed her eyes again and only Cullen knew she was growing weary. “‘ _Magic is to serve man, not rule over him_ ’. That is what Andraste said; I suggest you figure out how to do that without using blood magic,” she almost sighed.

“You will not teach this, so how do we deal with-”

“Draft laws, decide punishments, figure out who is responsible for what, and create oversights to keep it fair-but don’t expect someone else to decide for you,” she glanced at the twelve mages who were now huddled on the ground and sobbing. “You won’t like the choices another makes for you,” she finished before stepping out of Cullen’s arms and walking away.

Cullen found her in his tent two hours later, sleeping the sleep of the exhausted with tears still rolling down her cheeks.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

Cullen knew there was no way he was going to fit on that cot with her; he barely fit on it alone. He gently picked her up and carried her through the gates and into the small house that had been given to her. He ignored the whispers that followed them; he had decided he wasn’t going to try and hide their relationship. She deserved more.

One of the scouts rushed to open the door to the house for him and he nodded his thanks. He placed his mage on the bed; grateful it was slightly larger than his cot, then went and closed the door. There was no lock, but he could see two runes on the wall. He recognized her work, one for protection and one for silence. He activated both of them to give them some much needed privacy.

He had missed her.

After assuring himself the wards were working and the door wouldn’t open without the rune being deactivated he quickly removed his armor and undressed completely. There was a pitcher with water sitting near the fire, he poured it into a clay basin to quickly wash up.

He hadn’t been particularly quiet with his movements, but she was still sound asleep. He stood next to the bed for a short time watching her breathe. He realized she was still in her armor and chuckled at himself. Cullen made quick work of removing her armor; waking her up as he pulled off her breastplate.

“Cullen?” she said sleepily.

“Yes, ‘tis me,” he assured her as he put the leather armor on the table nearby.

“What time is it?” she asked him with a yawn.

“An hour after noon, my love,” he replied as she crawled into the bed with her. She frowned as he pulled her close.

“Vhenan, there is no way you are actually planning on sleeping this early in the day,” she said with alarm. “Are you feeling okay?” His answer was to pull her to him and under him to kiss her passionately.

“Oh,” she said with delight when he broke the kiss several minutes later to begin to trail kisses down her neck.

She ran her hands up his biceps and to his shoulders; lifting her chin to give him better access to her throat. He nipped gently at the juncture between her neck and shoulder just to feel her shudder in his arms. He kissed her lips again, teasing them open with his tongue before coaxing her tongue into play.

“Mmm, make that sound again, love,” he said against her lips when she moaned her approval. She chuckled softly and complied as she tangled her fingers into his blond locks to keep his head in place while she kissed him with the same passion.

Cullen took his time exploring her body with his hands; enjoying the feel of her mouth on his, the feel of her warm skin under his hands. When his fingers found the familiar scar down her left breast he broke away from her mouth to kiss and lick down the scar, eliciting another shudder from her. He changed course as he reached the underside of her left breast, tracing the globe with his tongue. Her fingers clenched in his hair and she breathed his name with pleasure.

Cullen could smell her arousal as he breathed in the scent of her skin; sun, leather, sweat and the unmistakeable scent of her. His breathing became rougher as he treated her right breast to the same treatment. She tugged on his wavy hair in an effort to drag his mouth back to hers, but he just removed her fingers and held her hands at her side. Her frustrated growl made him smile against her stomach as he placed kisses along the sensitive area.

She made room for him between her legs as he shifted his position. He released her slender fingers long enough to settle between her legs, her knees over his shoulders. Before she could tangle her fingers in his hair again he laced his fingers through hers; and when he used his tongue to separate her pussy lips she took a deep breath in anticipation.

Cullen closed his eyes as he got his first taste of her in four years; and once again his dreams were never quite right. Slightly salty, a little like strawberries and cream; satin on his tongue. As usual her pubic hair was trimmed close and neat, but still enough to hang onto her scent and the moisture of her. He took delight in lapping ever drop of her desire from her labia.

When she was tugging at his hands trying to free her fingers and twisting and lifting her hips to get closer he let go of her left hand and used his right hand to spread her lips wider. She groaned and stilled as his lips closed around her clit and he sucked gently. He groaned himself when he tried to slide his fingers inside her and met with resistance.

“Open up for me, love,” he groaned hoarsely against her pussy, she whimpered while he used his fingers to prime her for him. When he felt the walls of her pussy beginning to clench and draw his fingers deeper into her he surged up her body to clamp his mouth on hers; using the hand still at her box to guide himself to her entrance.

“Now,” he said as he thrust into her, she screamed into his mouth from the sheer pleasure of her release. Cullen gave her no chance to recover. He shifted so her legs were spread wide and her hips were angled up on his thighs. His movements were short, he was deep inside her and he didn’t take long strokes; he kept them short but hard. Her hands had gripped his sides when he entered her and now her nails were drawing blood as she held on to her lover.

He moved his head to the side, and licked the crook of her neck and shoulder. He heard her gasping yes with every stroke; felt her fingers flexing against his sides and the way she had hooked her calves around his thighs, using the leverage to keep in motion with him.

When she flexed the walls of her vagina against him, he lost control and arched back with a  shout as he pumped his seed inside her. His orgasm triggered another for her on top of the first one and she cried out in pain from the pleasure.

They collapsed together, still wound up in each other’s body, breathing heavily.

After about five minutes Bronwynn began to giggle. Cullen was smiling against her hair at first but couldn’t resist the sound and soon joined in her merriment.

“I love you Bronwynn,” he said when their laughter wound down.

“I am glad, vhenan,” she replied breathlessly as she snuggled closer to his larger body. “I don’t think I could handle this without you,”  she yawned as she finished and he felt her body fall into sleep. He wrapped his arms around his mage and held her gently.

He woke to cool fingers along his brow and the soothing sound of her voice; she wasn’t actually trying to say anything soothing, simply talking as if to herself. He pulled her closer to him and kissed her into silence.

“I don’t actually remember what I was dreaming of,” he said with relief. She laughed softly at the sound.

“Well it wasn’t too terrible, then,” she said easily. He could see the hurt in her eyes. It was a look she had carried since Kirkwall; it often drove him crazy that she wouldn’t ask about what happened. She never pushed; and while he had appreciate that then; he now realized he had also wanted her to.

“Why haven’t you ever pushed me to tell you what happened in the Tower?” He asked her as he looked into her emerald green eyes. She blinked in surprise then sighed.

“Because you were always angry, vhenan,” she said sadly. “I was afraid it would … I don’t know … push you farther away from me?” he sighed as he thought about it.

“I never meant to cause you pain,” he said softly before kissing her forehead. She leaned into his kiss, snuggling closer.

“Cullen, you only hurt me when you wouldn’t let yourself heal,” she said quietly. “I hurt _for_ you, now” she tried to assure him. He smiled against her skin.

“Only you,” he responded.

“What does that mean?” she asked with humorous suspicion.

“That only you would think it’s okay to feel hurt for me instead of being angry with me, or feeling hurt by me,” he intoned with a seriousness that sobered her up. She sat up on one elbow, looking down into his face.

Four years had passed, but she still knew that face. There were a few more worry lines around his glacier blue eyes, his golden blond hair was becoming more brown than gold; she could even see a few streaks of gray. There was a new scar on his upper lip and she leaned down to place a brief kiss on it.

“I won’t say I don’t want you to tell me, Vhenan; for that would be a lie,” she admitted. “Yet, what I truly want is for you to talk about what happened to get it out,” when he frowned at her she put her forehead against his.

“Pain shared is pain halved, my heart. You don’t need to tell me a thing; I know you worry I will take it badly; or blame myself; or something else,” she said softly. He nodded and she sighed.

“You told me you stopped taking the lyrium,” she said and he frowned up at her as he pulled away.

“Change of subject?” he asked with some anger, she shook her head no.

“The dreams are going to get worse,” she said quietly to him, compassion in her voice.

“I knew that,” he said bitterly. She smiled at the petulant look on his face.

“Talking about what happened will help lessen their impact,” she finished before sliding her arm down and snuggling closer to him once again. For a brief moment Cullen marvelled for the thousandth time how well she fit against his body.

“How do you know this?” he asked her after a few moments had passed in awkward silence. Awkward for him, at least.

“Because even though I didn’t suffer nearly as much as you did, telling you what happened to me helped me sleep at night. Helped me through the night terrors,” Cullen felt her body warm against his and realized that for all the tenseness he was feeling, her body had stayed relaxed through the whole conversation.

“I’ll think about it, my love,” he replied after a few more moments thought, and felt his own body relax.

* * *

Bronwynn woke slowly a few hours later; a deep lassitude had invaded her limbs. She sighed softly as she felt her Templar’s dick slide inside her from behind. He took his time with each stroke, letting the friction build. His right arm was on her waist, crooked at the elbow to hold and fondle her right breast with his hand.

When she tried to move her legs, to open herself more he growled against the back of her neck and stopped moving. Her whimper of frustration pleased him as he continued the slow movements of his hips. She dug the fingers of her right hand into his arm as he gently rolled and pinched her nipple.

He heard her whimper his name softly when her body began to thrum from the pleasure. He slid his right hand down her stomach to the juncture between her legs. He groaned her name against the back of her neck when she clenched her pussy on the head of his dick when he rolled her clit between his fingers.

“More,” she gasped and he rolled them so she was on her stomach underneath him. He raised himself to his elbows to keep the pressure off her back and to give himself leverage as he thrust deeper into her wet, hot passage. He felt her quiver beneath him as the head of his dick stroked the center of her pleasure with each inward thrust.

“Cullen,” she moaned again. “More.”  His answer was to nip her back from her right shoulder blade to her left before shifting one leg between hers. He had to stop moving from the shift in pleasure for himself.

“How are you so tight and yet can take all of me?” he groaned against her spine as he shifted his other leg between hers, opening her up to him completely.

Her answer was a sob of pleasure as he found the spot once again. Cullen wasn’t sure how he managed to keep the pace slow for the next ten minutes; he just knew that when she finally lifted her hips and thrust back against him with a feral shout of demand he bruised her buttocks with his pelvic bone from the force of his thrusts.

He filled her to overflowing with his seed; she was still holding on to the edge when he stopped moving. Feeling her frustration he spread her legs further apart and thrust once more into her; growling her name as he did. Her scream of of release echoed through the small house. Cullen held still as he felt her body convulsing on his. Her heart pounded in rhythm with his as they lay panting.

“Ugh, get off,” she jokingly panted after a half an hour. “You’re too heavy, I can’t breathe!” He laughingly rolled over and pulled her closer to him and kissing her senseless.

“Cullen,” she said dreamily when he’d broken the kiss.

“Yes, my love?”

“Did you actually spend the entire afternoon with me, in this bed, doing _nothing_?” she asked him with incredulity.

“Not _nothing_ ,” he he replied wickedly, making her laugh; a sound he would never tire of.

“Cullen, you know what I meant,” she laughed.

“One of my knights asked me a question. Now, I heard him speaking, I even saw his mouth moving,” he grinned sheepishly as he told her this.

“Okay,” she said.

“Then he apparently asked me a third time before he clapped me on the back; which startled me out of my reverie,” Cullen sighed as she began to grin when his cheeks began to feel hot.

“You were distracted?” she asked innocently.

“Yes, and yes it was by you, as you’re already well aware,” he said with mock anger. Her grin got wider.

“What happened next?” she asked eagerly. He sighed in frustration and embarrassment.

“Rylen shoved me into my tent, where you were, telling me to get it out of my system so I would be of use to the men,” he grumbled. Her peal of laughter rang out and he smiled to hear it.

“I am amazed, my heart; simply amazed,” she said when she had wound down some.

“At what?” he asked her with his crooked smile.

“That you actually listened,” she whispered before leaning in to kiss him again.

* * *

 

Morning dawned clear and cold and found Cullen and Bronwynn stamping their feet in the snow with the Templars and soldiers that had joined the Inquisition forces. Cassandra joined them as Cullen began calling out orders for the men and women to get warmed up with. Cullen was the only one not surprised when Bronwynn joined the fighters ranks.

“What are you doing?” Cassandra asked her incredulously. Her Nevarran accent heavy with sleep. Cullen answered for his mage as he playfully shoved Cassandra in line.

“Her morning exercise, just as you should be,” he said before also starting to do the warm up exercises. Cassandra gasped in surprise at his antics; but smiled also. It was good to see the somber man had a playful side. She had worried about him and it was good to see he was happier now that he was reunited with the Herald.

When an hour had passed and Cullen could hear everyone breathing heavily he broke them up into pairs to have them practice basic sword work. He put Bronwynn and Cassandra together. Bronwynn had drawn her long sword in her left hand while Cassandra drew her long sword and shield. Cassandra once again gave the Herald an incredulous look.

“You cannot be serious, you cannot know how to wield that sword. Exercises are one thing; actually wielding an edged weapon is another!” she exclaimed. Bronwynn merely smiled mischievously at the Seeker and began to bounce lightly on the balls of her feet; testing her sword’s balance as she did. She keeps her right hand out for balance, but held as if she holds a staff.

Cassandra watched the younger woman moving carefully, trying to figure out what she was doing with the empty hand. When Bronwynn suddenly moved forward with a low strike from the staff  that was suddenly coming at her in the right hand aimed at her knees; she she leaned forward and lowered her shield slightly to catch the weapon. Her sword came up in a loose block, ready for a more solid strike on the head or shoulders. Bronwynn quickly lunged one step to the left to slash at the Seeker’s open side, the staff flickering out of existence.

Cassandra pivoted towards the strike, raising the sword higher and moving her shield to bash when suddenly she saw another staff out of the corner of her eye; before she could react it slid underneath her shield to hook her feet. Cassandra stumbled and before she could correct the movement she felt a light blow on the back of her armor.

“Augh!” she cried in disgust at herself, but smiled as well. She had underestimated the Herald; that would never happen again.

“You fight well,” Cassandra said with pleasure. Bronwynn smiled back at the Seeker.

“Thank you, Cassandra,” she nodded and tipped her sword up in acknowledgment.

“What happened to your staff?” Cassandra demanded when she saw the mage’s right hand was once again empty. Bronwynn shook her wrist and there was a jangle from the bracelet she wore.

“I shrink them to fit the charm bracelet I wear,” she answered.

“Seeker! Herald! No one called a halt, get your arses moving!” Cullen shouted to the two women who laughed then took up their stances once again.

The next hour seemed to fly by as the women worked together to improve. Bronwynn found that fighting a Seeker was quite different than fighting a Templar, although there were similarities. Cassandra quickly learned to focus on Bronwynn’s body, not her hands or face. The mage moved fast, like a two weapon fighter; yet she was clearly a mage. Bronwynn didn’t hesitate to use magic through her sword, or to enlarge a staff for attack or defense.

Bronwynn had to work harder to get her magic through Cassandra’s natural defenses once the woman started actively blocking the magic; it was much harder than doing so from a Templar. She laughed at the look on Cassandra’s face when she came in with a slash to Bronwynn’s midsection only to find that the mage hadn’t actually been standing there.

“Bronwynn, stop showing off! Use your staff like you’re supposed to!” Cullen shouted instructions at the Warden cum Herald who ignored him. Her training with him had been all about defense; defending herself from other Templars and other mages. She had learned to attack from a Chevalier and a Warden; Jean Marc Stroud. It had been he who had seen the advantage her abilities as a Knight Enchanter would grant her against anything from Darkspawn to bandit.

Wardens used every gift they had to their advantage; and Bronwynn had been an apt pupil. She would never be the swordswoman that Cassandra was; she lost more bouts during this session than she won, but she could definitely hold her own.

Cullen called a halt after an hour and that was when the two women realized they had an audience. Several pairs of fighters had stopped their work to watch the Herald and the Seeker fighting. Bronwynn blushed in embarrassment; not having meant to cause a scene.

“You’ve improved, Herald,” Cullen said with pride. “Although you really should be using your staff more,” he admonished.

“Heh, never give a Darkspawn more weapons to take away from you than you need to,” she told him; reminding him she was also a Warden.

“Did you learn to fight like that from the Wardens, Herald?” one of the female recruits asked tentatively. Bronwynn turned to her and shook her head.

“Nay, I actually learned the basics from Commander Cullen when we were here in the Circle,” Bronwynn said easily. There were several Templars whose eyes widened in shock. Cullen’s nod of agreement kept them all silent, however.

“Why?” a Templar named Lisette asked curiously.

“The Herald did not have an easy go of it in the Circle, she needed to be able to protect herself. I and the Knight-Captain at the time took it upon ourselves to teach her to do just that,” Cullen said with simplicity; making no excuses and giving no other explanation.

“The Wardens refined my technique,” she shrugged self-deprecatingly. “I am a mage, and I know magic better than the sword; but I can’t always rely on magic when dealing with Darkspawn,” once again she shrugged.

There were murmurs of surprise as well as appreciation. Knowing that their Herald could actually fight seemed to bolster the men and women who were going to be the Inquisition’s army. That she would understand what they needed meant more to them than they had known it would. Cassandra and Cullen both noted the reaction and kept it in mind.

Bronwynn’s abilities were going to be very important to the Inquisition. The people were going to want to know she was just like them, or at least that she had started out like them.

Cullen called his second in command and had him take over the training so he, Cassandra and Bronwynn could head into the Chantry to discuss the problems the Inquisition was facing in order to deal with the Breech.

* * *

“Lady Montilyet, we can’t give the appearance of needing the Chantry’s approval,” Cullen said to the Antivan noble.

“Yet we can’t ignore them either, Commander,” Bronwynn interjected before anyone else could respond. He gave her a disgusted look.

“We need to know our best way of dealing with the Chantry, Commander,” she said firmly. He grimaced before nodding his agreement to that statement.

“We also need more people, more influence,” the Ambassador continued as if she hadn’t been interrupted. Leliana spoke up with her agreement.

“Where do I come in, then?” Bronwynn asked the assembled Inquisition leaders.

“Be what you are,” Leliana’s Orlesian accented words were met with silence.

“And what would that be, Sister Lei?” Bronwynn asked with humor. “A mage or a Warden?” Leliana shook her head with a smile.

“The Herald of Andraste,” she answered. “The one who can save the people from the Rifts and demons,” she finished. Bronwynn sighed.

“Herald of Andraste,” She shook her head. “Still sounds wrong. All right, so to sum it up; I need to head to the Hinterlands to: Stop the fighting between the mages and the Templars, talk to this Mother Giselle about the Mothers of the Chantry who are against the Inquisition, close all the rifts I can find, and somehow during all of that I need to inspire people to believe the Inquisition is the only group that can save them?” she looked at the four others in the room with her with doubt.

“When you put it all together like that, it does sound like an impossible task,” Josephine said with a soft laugh. Cullen smiled but shook his head.

“I know the Herald, she will accomplish all of that and more,” he gave her a slight bow. Bronwynn shrugged her shoulders and sighed.

“Very well, I’ll make preparations to leave as soon as possible.” She nodded to the three of them and took her leave. Cassandra followed her quickly.

“You don’t plan on going alone?” she asked in alarm to which Bronwynn laughed.

“I do not think so highly of myself that I feel I can take on the world, Seeker,” she answered sardonically.

“Then I will accompany you,” Cassandra said decisively. Bronwynn gave a tinkling laugh and clapped the woman on the back.

“Well that’s one down, who else should we take on this wonderful camping trip?” she asked with humor.

“I suppose we could take the dwarf,” Cassandra said grudgingly. Bronwynn laughed again and stopped outside the Chantry.

“What do you have against Varric?” Bronwynn asked her. The Seeker made a disgusted noise which caused Bronwynn to chuckle again.

“He never stops talking, he is always spinning tales, and he will not commit to any action without being coerced into it,” she replied quickly and angrily.

“Well, he _is_ a bard,” Bronwynn said. “As well as the scion of House Tethras. My understanding is he’s been instrumental in the recovery of Kirkwall,” Bronwynn said with some confusion. Cassandra sighed and began to walk again, Bronwynn followed her.

“Have you read his ‘ _Tales of the Champion_ ’?” Cassandra asked the redhead, who shook her head negatively.

“Garrett Hawke is my cousin, and while I was in Kirkwall Garrett kept me and Bethany informed of what he was doing,” she replied. Cassandra stopped and stared at the mage.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You never asked,” Bronwynn said with a laugh. “Also, I didn’t know you were going to ask him before you left. It’s not like I knew what you and Leliana were doing most of the time!” she said as well. Cassandra snorted her own laughter and sighed again.

“He claims he doesn’t know where the Champion is,” she said with disappointment.

“Cassandra,” Bronwynn said, putting her hand on the dark haired womans arm to turn her to face herself.

“Yes?”

“Garrett left Kirkwall to protect his friends and family; you know that, right?” Cassandra gasped in surprise.

“Why would he do that?” She then demanded and Bronwynn laughed softly.

“There was an exalted march being called on him, why wouldn’t he? He wanted to protect Kirkwall from more strife, keep his friends out of harm’s way; if he wasn’t in Kirkwall then the Chantry had no reason to send Templars to the city,” she said. Cassandra’s brown eyes had widened with each word, as if this idea had not occurred to her.

“When the mage war broke out, and the march was called off; the Templars were sent to deal with the rebelling mages,” Cassandra said softly.

“Yet, that wasn’t until after Garrett left,” Bronwynn sighed. “He sent me a letter just before he left, telling me he was going and why. I heard he was gone before I could write back,” she shrugged and frowned at the Seeker.

“Why did you want him?”

“We were going to ask him to lead the Inquisition, when we couldn’t find the Hero of Ferelden,” Cassandra said quietly.

“Ahh,” Bronwynn said and started walking again.

“Do you think he would have accepted?” the woman asked. Bronwynn shook her head.

“By the time I’d left, Garrett had lost too much to the Chantry’s laws; lost too much to Kirkwall for that matter,” she said sadly. “With one of his best friends being responsible for the mage war he wanted to be sure no one else he cared about got caught up in the craziness,” Bronwynn told her.

“Why could Varric not tell me this?” Cassandra groused.fc

“Perhaps he did,” Bronwynn said with a laugh. “He _is_ a bard,” she reminded her. Again, the Seeker made a disgusted noise that had Bronwynn laughing.

They parted ways at the Tavern and Bronwynn went in to see about getting rations for the trail. She took her time going through the small village, listening to the villagers and others talking; trying to get a feel for the mood around the village.

“Herald of Andraste,” she heard a familiar voice say and turned to see the elf Solas, she grinned at him and gave him a shallow bow.

“That is what they are saying, and how silly is that?” she asked him.

“You are a hero,” he said. Bronwynn crooked her head to the right and smiled again.

“Shall I come flying in on a dragon?” she asked him mischievously. He laughed in response.

“I would have said a griffon,” he answered. She laughed with him.

“Sadly, we Wardens killed them all,” she said; and although her voice was light, he could see real sadness in her eyes for the loss.

“I am curious to see what kind of hero you will be,” he went on.

“Ha, I plan on being a person, Solas. Being a Hero is dangerous work,” she quipped. His eyes lit with humor.

“This is true; but so is life in general,” he responded. She smiled in return.

They spent the next few minutes discussing his studies of the fade and she surprised him with her open acceptance of his view of spirits. She couldn’t quite pin down what it was about his aura that confused her. It was almost as if he were two people. She mentally shook her head and dismissed it; he probably had a spirit companion like she did.

“Oh,” she said before she began to walk into the apothecary. “We’ll be leaving for the Hinterlands in a few days, since you’re staying with us I’d love for you to join us,” he nodded as she turned and walked into the small building. He wondered how a human mage raised in their Chantry’s Circle could be so intuitive; he also wondered where she had learned to remove someone’s magic.

Bronwynn hurried out to find Varric after making sure Aedan had everything he needed. She desperately wanted to know how her cousins were doing; especially as she hadn’t heard from Bethany or Stroud in a year. She found him near the front gates; where he could watch everyone coming and going.

“I gather the Singing Maiden isn’t your kind of tavern, Varric?” she said by way of greeting. He smiled at her and surprised her with a very tight hug around the waist.

“Umm, Varric?” she asked even as she returned the hug. He laughed at the doubt in her voice.

“No, I haven’t lost my mind; M’lady Sunshine made me promise to give you a hug when I saw you again,” he explained. Bronwynn’s peal of pleased laughter rang out across the village; causing many people to turn to see who she was talking to.

“Ahh, my sweet cousin. Thank you Master Tethras, for passing on the hug. Just how uncomfortable were you when she gave you the hug?” The redheaded mage’s green eyes glinted with amusement; knowing the dwarf was usually uncomfortable with physical interaction.

“I’d rather not talk about it,” he grumbled good naturedly. Once more Bronwynn laughed and found a place to sit so they could talk. He managed to put her mind at ease about his cousins; although he couldn’t speak to Stroud. Hawk had been keeping rather mum about his investigations into the red lyrium he had been investigating.

“You said the stuff at the Temple was red lyrium, what exactly did it do?” she wanted to know and Varric had the distinct impression she wasn’t simply curious. He told her what happened with Meredith and his brother; and when Bronwynn sighed and closed her eyes he had a bad feeling.

“What?” he asked. Bronwynn knew the man was a master of gathering information even if he didn’t always know what to do with the information he got.

“You said that you had a piece of the idol and were having it tested, yes?” she verified. He nodded and frowned at her.

“Yes, in shifts; it’s dangerous.”

“Would you mind having your people send what information they _do_ have on it?” she asked.

“Why? It’s not much,” he replied.

“I think, _think_ , that I ran across this before, but until I can actually take the time to study it myself I can’t be sure,” she admitted.

“What?” he demanded. She shook her head.

“I can’t say for sure, but I have a few suspicions. Will you do that for me?” she asked him again.

“Aye, I’ll even have them bring it to you if that’s what you want,” he answered. “I worry about them getting affected.”

“You’re too good for your own good, Varric. The Merchant’s Guild is lucky you don’t want your brothers position,” she said with a laugh. He gave a dry chuckle at his own expense. She told him about the planned trip to the Hinterlands and took her leave.

  


Bronwynn took the rest of the day to explore the area around the village. When she found an empty cabin she decided to take the time to speak with her spirit companions; to make sure they really were doing okay.

Both were very happy to be with her; and they assured her that they were safer than the others who were near the rifts. Knowledge seemed more excited at the new things it was learning than concerned about any harm that may come to it. Compassion was simply glad it was able to help in any way. Bronwynn smiled and hugged the two spirits. They were very dear friends, but she worried that she took advantage of them; and even now they protested the thought.

She made her way back into the walled village just as Cullen came tromping down the stairs towards the gate; a fierce scowl upon his face. She called his name and when he saw her a look of relief appeared.

“Where have you been?” he asked, and Bronwynn could hear the effort it took him not to demand an answer.

“Meditating, vhenan,” she answered, hooking her arm through his and turning them towards the tavern. “And now I’m starving, shall we eat?” she asked him. He sighed and shook his head as he followed her.

“Please let someone know where you’re going, Herald,” he asked. Bronwynn sighed and looked sideways at him.

“Is that a request of the Commander or a demand of my lover?” she asked archly.

“Both,” he replied seriously, to which she chuckled.

“Very well, I will attempt to remember to do so,” she answered as they entered the Singing Maiden to dine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to let you all know that any words you don't understand are either Elvehnan, Tevene or Qunlat. I got them all off the Wiki.   
> Same thing with the references to things that aren't in the games. BioWare actually has formal cannon in the books, games (board and console/pc), movies, and graphic novels. So I just used the Wiki to make sure I'm using all the information available to me.
> 
> Aaaand I'm going to put it out there right now-I'm NOT getting Trespasser and I WON'T be using it in the story. I'm not saying, I'm just saying. O_o.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

The fight at the Crossroads was intense but quick; Inquisition soldiers were committed to bringing peace. The refugee’s at the small village were grateful to the soldiers for their intervention. Between the scouts and the soldiers, the fighting mages and Templars had been run off.

Mother Giselle watched the quartet that approached, marking that the woman with the green fire on her left hand stopped and spoke with soldiers and refugees alike; healing those who needed it without hesitation. The Chantry mother took solace in that. A mage with a title like Herald of Andraste could let it go to their head; this woman clearly did not.

Bronwynn listened to the Revered Mother’s advice and thanked her for her time. She was surprised that the woman would join the Inquisition when the Chantry had denounced them as heretics; but having a faithful Andrastian to help comfort the people was a good thing.

Cassandra wanted to be sure the Inquisition soldiers in the area had all they needed to help the refugees; Varric wanted to get rid of all the Red Lyrium deposits they could find, and Solas mentioned ancient elven artifacts that could help reinforce the veil. Bronwynn shook her head and laughed to herself when they all mentioned their desires to her separately.

* * *

The group had been in the Hinterlands for three days now and Bronwynn was more than footsore. Their rest breaks were short as there were so many rifts that had to be sealed. Bronwynn had no desire to let any more innocents suffer if she could stop it. The only plus she could find was that the Mark seemed to direct her towards the Rifts.

If it were just about fighting the demons the Inquisition’s soldiers would be quite capable of dealing with the issue; but she was the only one who could seal the rifts.

Once all the rifts were sealed in the Hinterlands her little group were making their way towards the nearest camp for a rest when the mage sighed and then spoke.

“Enough,” she said aloud, startling herself for breaking the quiet.

“Enough what?” Varric asked testily. “Walking? I agree, let’s take a break,” he groused. Bronwynn chuckled but didn’t argue.

“We need to head back to Haven, regroup,” Bronwynn said after a few moments of silence. The two humans and dwarf had removed their boots to rub their feet, where the elf had simply begun rubbing his own.

“We have managed to stabilize the area some,” Cassandra said, although she sounded reluctant to admit that. Bronwynn sighed.

“What do you suggest we do, Cassandra?” Bronwynn wearily asked.

“There must be some way of making both sides listen,” Cassandra said, but then she shrugged in defeat. “I just can’t think of a way to do so,” she admitted.

* * *

The hazel eyed elven apostate knocked briskly on the door to the Herald’s cabin in Haven a week later. He found he couldn’t shake the doubts in his mind; her use of magic was far too advanced.

The entire time they had been in the Hinterlands he had found himself more and more curious about this Warden turned Herald and her use of magic. He was used to using the Fade to power his spells, yet she seemed to do more than simply power her spells; the areas where the Rifts had been had been places where the veil had been thinnest. Where sealing the Rifts had assured the veil was no longer ripped open; a good thing to be sure, he noticed that the veil was even firmer after she cast her magic. As if she had somehow made an area more real than it had been.

Solas wondered where she had learned such an old way of using magic. It was something he had not seen outside of his studies in the fade; and he had to admit that was saying quite a bit.

He stuttered an apology when the Commander of the Inquisition forces answered the door. He was fastening his sword belt as he did.

“It’s fine, Serra; did you wish to speak with the Herald?” he asked casually. Solas answered in the positive and Cullen nodded.

“Come inside, get out of the cold,” the blond human said as he stepped back. Solas entered the small house and immediately felt surrounded by the love the two shared. It humbled the elf to feel this intense emotion as well as amazing him. Like most he had believed that Templars were completely against mages and magic, with hateful intent. Yet with the emotion that filled this cabin; a temporary residence for them, the intensity and strength stupefied him. Never in all his years had he experienced such emotion; except perhaps fleetingly in the Fade as a reflection.

“Solas? Is everything alright?” Bronwynn asked with surprise when she saw the elf.

“Yes, Herald. I had simply hoped to speak with you,” he answered her. She smiled in relief and waved to the table near the fireplace.  

“Cullen refuses to eat breakfast with me, will you join me?” she asked him, he grinned at her jab at her lover who just shook his head before kissing her on the forehead and leaving.

“Really, he just woke up late. Apparently that makes him a bad commander; never mind he came home late,” she confided after he had shut the door.

“How long have you two been together?” Solas asked with some hesitation. Bronwynn’s easy smile made it somewhat less awkward.

“Oh goodness, almost twelve years now?” she said after a moment’s thought. He widened his eyes in surprise.

“When did you meet?” he asked, then bowed his head. “My apologies, Herald, I mean no disrespect; I am just surprised that a mage would so readily be with a Templar,” he explained. She laughed lightly and waved away his apology.

“You aren’t asking about our sex life; which I have had happen from time to time, Serra,” she told him. “We met while I was still in the Circle here in Ferelden. Knight-Commander Greagoir assigned him to me as a personal body guard,” she explained. When he frowned in further confusion she went on.

“There was a cabal of maleficarum in the Tower; and their leader was very smart and clever. I was very young and he thought vulnerable enough to be turned into one of his puppets,” she shrugged, as if to dismiss the pain the memory still caused her.

“I wasn’t so vulnerable, but I was essentially alone; the Knight-Commander was unwilling to send me to another Circle, as well as being unwilling to assign me a group of Templars to protect me,” she sighed and smiled.

“He sent for Cullen from his home Chantry in Honnleath and one thing led to another,” she grinned shyly as she said this, even blushed.

“I can sense how deeply you care for one another,” the elven mage said before he thought. Bronwynn’s emerald eyes widened in shock.

“Truly? We put off that much energy?” she asked in wonder. The other mage nodded with a sigh of relief that she didn’t take offense.

“That isn’t why I came, however,” he said just as the woman placed a plate before him heaped with biscuits, sausage and eggs. There was a bowl of gravy on the table as well. When she placed a pot of coffee on a pad on the table Solas’ eyes widened in surprise once more.

“You are used to feeding a Templar,” he joked and the Circle mage laughed lightly; nodding as she filled her own plate.

“Eat up, elf, you clearly need the food,” she said with mock severity. He chuckled and began to dig into the food.

“Now,” she said after they had both eaten about half their food. “Why did you come to see me this morn?”

“After this meal, I am afraid to offend you,” he said to her.

“Un uh, spill it Solas,” she waved at him imperiously with an impish grin upon her raspberry lips. Solas took a few sips of the coffee then leaned back in his seat and looked at her carefully before replying.

“I find myself unable to deny my curiosity about your way of using magic, Herald,” he said and she shook her head.

“Please, Solas; call me Bronwynn. We are hopefully going to be friends and I actually think the title is a bit overblown,” she said with a pleading smile. He nodded to show his agreement.

“So, what about how I cast has you curious?” she asked him.

“I would like to know where you learned to strengthen the veil as you cast,” he said, carefully watching her face and body as he did so. Her frown of confusion cleared after a brief second and she nodded before speaking.

“Ah, I see. You wonder how I know to pull the energy from around me to power my magic instead of simply relying on my own strength?” she asked him to clarify. He nodded.

“I spent a lot of time studying the information we had in the Tower on ancient magics; which admittedly wasn’t a lot,” she shrugged before going on.

“I was out numbered in the Circle so I had to learn a way of giving myself the best way to outlast my opponents instead of just out casting them,” when he frowned his confusion at her answer she gave him a brief history of her time in Kinloch Hold. Solas found himself fascinated with her tale as she went on; clearly she had suffered greatly in the Circle and yet she didn’t hold the entire Templar Order at fault, nor even the entire Chantry.

“You never felt the need to turn to blood magic?” he asked her incredulously. “You don’t fear your own magic?” he asked her with awe. She shook her head.

“But surely there were no instructions on how to use the fade itself?” he demanded.

“Solas, I don’t use the _Fade_ ,” she said with emphasis.

“Then what?”

“I use the ambient emotional energy that permeates the areas when possible,” she told him. His eyes widened in surprise and his angular face fell slack with shock.

“Areas where there were battles, celebrations or places where someone or a group of someones felt terror or joy or hatred or love; these areas have an abundance of energy and that is what I use when I can,” she explained. She watched as he took that information in and saw when he realized what she meant.

The very things that drew spirits to an area to press against the veil were the things she used to power her magic. In doing so she removed what drew them, which meant that the veil was under less pressure.

“I guess I misunderstood you earlier when you seemed to believe that spirits were helpful,” he said in a stony voice which made the Herald laugh.

“Solas,” she sighed. “I do know spirits are helpful; but more often than not places that fill up with an over abundance of energy do more than draw harmless spirits,” she said to him. When he opened his mouth to protest she raised her eyebrows to wait. He closed his mouth as he had no real retort to that statement.

“Spirits are easily distracted, usually,” she said and he had to nod his agreement.

“Still, I thought you were against the treatment of all spirits as demons,” he snapped and she gave him a frank look.

“Because I choose to use the excess energy that has filled a space? How am I treating spirits as demons?” she snapped back.

“You prevent them from experiencing what goes on,” he shot back. She laughed at him.

“The places where the veil is thinnest are soaked with blood and emotion; my strengthening of the veil does no more than keep the spirits in the veil,” she said to him. “I no more prevent the spirits from experiencing the things that happened than making a mage Tranquil,” she sneered at the elf. Solas wanted to to remain angry with her; yet he found the debate exhilerating.

“Would you live with spirits if you could?” he asked her, hoping to shock her into revealing her Circle roots.

“Yes, in a heartbeat. One can learn so much from spirits that are willing to share their knowledge and experiences,” she said with a certainty that astounded him. “Of course that’s the problem isn’t it?” she asked him shrewdly. “Finding _spirits_ who are willing to teach without demanding more in return than they offer,” he conceded that point.

“Solas, I did not know that I strengthened the veil with how I cast until I cleansed an entire workroom of demons in the Circle,” she said candidly. He looked up at her with suspicion.

“The Circle allowed demons to be summoned?” he asked and she snorted with disdain.

“The First Enchanter thought to teach the lesson that _all_ spirits were demons, and _all_ demons were spirits,” she shook her  head.

“Ahh,” he said knowingly. Bronwynn rolled her green eyes heavenward and snorted again.

“I was in the class, and I had been arguing the point - because every single book we were given to read said exactly the opposite. That spirits were usually the ideal of some concept; justice, honor, knowledge, compassion, hope and demons were those ideals twisted and perverted by mages who tried to force them to serve against their natures,” she gave a prideful grin.

“I was very happy to show him the error of his ways when he summoned a spirit of Joy,” she smiled at the memory of the spirit.

“Joy?”

“Aye, it was small, appeared to us as a youth at first. Everyone in the room could feel the sheer happiness, exaltation, just; whatever- _joy_ that emanated from it,” her face fell.

“Irving bound it and it stopped being joyful, then he commanded it to attack me,” she closed her eyes in sadness.

“It wasn’t the first time I’d had to take on an Anger Demon; but it was the worst,” she shook her head. After a moment she opened her eyes again at locked her emerald green eyes onto his jade green eyes.

“He was so angry that I broke his bond on the spirit, freeing it to be itself he summoned several other demons; and they were demons-mostly terror shades that are always hanging about the Circles,” she grinned.

“It was the first and last time Irving attacked her,” Cullen said grimly as he returned to the cabin. The two mages jumped in shock to hear his voice; they hadn’t heard him come in.

“Why is that?” Solas asked the ex-Templar.

“Two reasons,” he said as he reached over and took a biscuit off her plate. “I immediately turned my skills to suppress magic on him and she asked the spirit of Joy to assist her in calming the demons,” he nodded at Bronwynn as he pulled up a third chair and began to eat the remainder of the breakfast, cold though it had gotten. Bronwynn chuckled at the look on Solas’ face.

“She worked with a spirit and you didn’t object?” Bronwynn laughed harder as Cullen’s face turned a deep red.

“Oh, he did after; but since the First Enchanter put me and fifteen little children in danger with his summoning of the demons and I managed to diffuse the situation so that _no one_ got hurt he had to let it go,” she supplied. Solas shook his head with wonder.

“I learned, Serah Elf; to trust my mage,” Cullen said as he swallowed a cup of coffee that Bronwynn had kept warm.

“I even learned,” he said after another bite of food. “To accept her spirit companions,” his words caught both mages off guard. Bronwynn snorted behind her hands to try and stop her laughter but couldn’t and fell out of her chair as she laughed.

When Solas would have reached for her to see if she was okay he saw that the Templar had a lopsided smile on his face; one full of pride.

These two were beyond amazing. A Templar who not only loved a mage; which even Solas had to admit wasn’t that odd an occurrence, but a Templar who took pride in surprising his lover with information she thought hidden from him.

“You do plan on changing the world, do you not?” he said aloud in wonder. Bronwynn rose from the floor with Cullen’s helpful outstretched  hand and turned to the mage.

“I believe that the only way the world will change is if we try,” she said sincerely. The elf stared at her for a long moment before bowing and taking his leave.

* * *

Josephine found the Herald as she was leaving the cabin, an hour after Solas had left and shortly before Cullen, who was changing his clothing since he’d gotten rather dirty during training that morning. Bronwynn saw her and smiled as she moved to join the Ambassador.  

“Yes, Lady Montilyet, how may I help you?”

“Actually, I was hoping we could discuss your thoughts on how to deal with the Chantry before Cullen, Leliana and I get together,” and Bronwynn gave a wry chuckle.

“I can tell you now, Ambassador; Cullen would rather say hang the Chantry,” she said with that laughter.

“Yet we cannot approach the mages or Templars without some sort of influence,” Josephine said reasonably. Bronwynn nodded her head in agreement.

“I agree, M’Lady; but the Commander isn’t so fond of the Chantry right now,” Bronwynn replied with another laugh. She turned and headed towards the Cathedral.

“I must say that for such a backwater town with such a twisted belief system they built a truly beautiful Cathedral, didn’t they?” Bronwynn said wistfully as she was looking up at the building. Josephine stopped and stared at the building for a moment.

“What do you mean a twisted belief system?” she asked the woman. Bronwynn turned to look at her.

“Didn’t you know?” When Josephine shook her head Bronwynn told her how the Hero of Ferelden and King Alistair had come to the village to find the Sacred Ashes. By the time they had entered the hall of the Cathedral they had a small gathering following them.

“You can’t be serious!” one of the Mother’s who had stayed with the Inquisition said incredulously. “A _dragon_?” At this point Leliana had also joined the group. She nodded sagely and added her lilting voice to the story telling.

“The High Dragon was a beautiful ruby red,” she painted the picture with her bard’s training; and even Varric seemed enthralled with the story.

“By the Maker,” one of the younger pages breathed in awe when the Sister got to the part where they had to go through a gauntlet of riddles. “How did you know the answers?” he asked while bouncing on his toes. Leliana laughed her tinkling laugh and leaned down to kiss his nose.

“I did not,” she answered. “The King actually answered all the riddles for us,” she said. There was a slight breeze as the assembled audience gave an audible gasp. Bronwynn’s own tinkling laugh echoed through the silence.

“Oh I can bet King Alistair was quite proficient with those riddles,” she said with affection. Leliana’s eyes twinkled with merriment when one of the older Mothers; who had been giving Bronwynn difficulty about being a mage and the Herald of Andraste, practically snapped her neck to look at the younger woman.

“ _You_ know the King?” she demanded. Bronwynn widened her green eyes at the woman and smiled with fondness.

“Aye, Mother. Alistair and I became great friends at Ostagar before I became a Warden,” she replied. She heard Cullen grumbling from behind her and then his familiar stomp as he left the gathering to head to the War Room. The murmurs grew until Bronwynn took up the story once more.

“Once they had passed that trial there was one final step,” She went on. She deepened her voice for the next line. “The Trial of Fire,” she gave it a breathlessness that pulled everyone back into the story.

“We all had to remove our armor; our underclothes, every stitch,” Leliana said with just the right hint of scandal in her voice. “As naked as the day we were brought into this word; no armor and no arms,” she gave a delicate shiver.

“Before us was a wall of flame that was taller even than Sten, our Qunari ally,” she paused to look at the children who were once again bouncing on their toes in their excitement.

“‘ _Walk through the flame’_ the guardian said to us; and despite my fear of the flame I did,” she sighed. “How could I do less when Andraste herself stood in the flames for her faith in the Maker,” Leliana managed to look pious without seeming to be overly dramatic. Bronwynn was impressed.

“Now the Warden and the King were quite sure they were going to be roasted alive; but they needed the Ashes to save the Arl of Redcliffe. Morrigan, the Witch of the Wilds was afraid of no fire - divine in origin or not and Enchanter Wynne; like Sister Nightingale, trusted the Maker to protect her,” Bronwynn said. She gave them all a conspiratorial look before she went on.

“I believe the Qunari simply thought it was an illusion, so the heat of it frightened him greatly,” she said. “As you know, the Qunari don’t have the Maker’s grace; don’t have Andraste’s assurances-they fear magic far more than we simple humans and elves,” she said with humor laced disdain.

Leliana took over the tale once more, completing the story with how they all felt blessed to have been allowed to see the Sacred Urn.

“Of course, the Ashes cured Arl Eamon and he was able to help stop the civil war that was brewing while the Blight was bearing down upon us; the Hero was able to kill the Archdemon and gave us the rightful King Alistair for the throne of Ferelden,” she finished with dramatic flourish of her voice; as if she were singing instead of speaking.

Even Lady Josephine Montilyet’s  eyes were wide with wonder from the tale. There was a collective sigh of appreciation when the two women bowed gracefully when they had finished the joint tale. They smiled and laced their arms through Josephine’s as they said their goodbyes and headed to the War Room.

* * *

* * *

“We cannot ignore the risk to the Herald!” Cullen said in his training ground voice so it echoed throughout the chamber. Said Herald raised her eyebrows at the Inquisition’s Commander. Josephine and Cassandra both gawped at him before Leliana jumped in with her agreement.

“Look,” Bronwynn started to say when Cassandra interrupted them all.

“I will accompany her,” she said; as if this would end the argument. After another five minutes, it did. Bronwynn left the room laughing heartily at the look of consternation on Cullen’s face.

“Bronwynn!” she heard her love bellow from behind her; indeed everyone in the cathedral heard him and turned to look. He noticed the attention; but was unconcerned for the moment.

“Yes, _Commander_?” she asked with emphasis.

“ _My love_ ,” he replied just as loudly as before and with the same emphasis. “I would speak with you about your travel arrangements,” He said to her. There was no menace; but everyone could hear the need to protect her in his voice.

Bronwynn’s breath caught in her chest when he called her his love in the Chantry Cathedral in front of all the Chanty Mothers and even Revered Mother Giselle. Hearing the slight panic in his voice concerning her leaving once again; and knowing he wasn’t even trying to hide his preference for her filled her to bursting with joy and pride in equal measure.

Her Templar just claimed her; _again_ , in front of all these people. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin; smiling for him. There was no person present who saw that smile who was not touched by the light of her joy.

“Of course, my heart, whatever you need,” she replied. He took her hand and placed it on his elbow as they walked out the cathedral. Quartermaster Threnn was pleased to help the Herald and her friends get the gear they needed that would satisfy the Commander of her safety.

* * *

Dusk had fallen and the red headed mage had just managed to walk through the door of her little cabin when the blond Templar swooped in behind her to slam the door shut. She turned to see him activating the runes and opened her mouth to speak; only to have him clamp his lips over hers. His kiss was as fierce as it was deep. He held her tightly to his armored body as he devoured her lips. He broke the kiss when she moaned into his mouth.

“Help me get this off,” he growled against her lips as he began tugging on his armor’s lacing. Her fingers made short work of the leatherwork and they heard a solid clang as the metal dented when it hit the table by the fireplace. He drew one of her own daggers from it’s sheath to cut the leather laces on the side of her own breastplate.

“Cullen!” she said on a shocked gasp as he yanked the offending leatherwork from her. He threw the weapon so it stuck into the far wall before yanking her to him again to once more consume her.

Bronwynn had no idea why he was suddenly so voracious in his attentions; yet it sparked something inside her. A need she hadn’t known she’d had. The need to be surrounded by him, almost subsumed by him.

She leaned into his body, the heat through his tunic and breeches warming her through her own. She wound her slender muscular arms around his neck to press herself closer and shivered when he responded with a possessive growl. His hands had already undone the laces on the sides of her breeches and his fingers slipped under the loose fabric to cup her heart shaped ass and lift her to her toes.

He used the movement to move his mouth to her neck, causing her head to fall back as he nuzzled the sensitive spot just above her shoulder. He felt her body shaking and her arms tightening to keep her hold.

“Boots,” he said hoarsely, she whimpered but he felt the magic weave around their feet. There were two soft thumps when her boots hit the floor when he lifted her higher to walk forward. Even with the leather of her breeches hiding her from him he could smell the scent of her arousal.

“Maker, you’re already ready for me, aren’t you?” he asked rhetorically. He lay her on the bed and pulled her breeches off in one smooth motion and then went to his knees.

The deep red of her pubic hair was matted with dampness and he ignored her pleas to wait and spread her lips with the fingers of his left hand; holding her down with his right hand on her abdomen. He took one deep breath of her scent then leaned forward and slowly licked her from her opening to her clit with one broad swath of his tongue. He reversed the action when she gasped and her fingers clamped on his right hand. His tongue found her opening again and this time he plunged the muscle into her.

He heard her intake of breath, felt her body still and once again thrust his tongue inside her tight pussy. Her hands had moved to his head and her fingers twisted in his hair as she tugged painfully on it; a keening sound that took him time to make out as a long drawn out please filling the room. He flexed his tongue inside her, felt the walls of her pussy clenching on him as she changed from please to his name.

He pulled his mouth from her and released himself from his breeches, she barely had time to take a breath before he slammed into her all the way to his testicles.

He held himself still as she arched her back on the bed; her hands fisting into the quilted cover her head thrown back and raspberry lips opened in an ‘O’ of pleasure on a silent scream.

While still inside her; after she stopped shivering with her orgasm, he maneuvered her so he was able to take off her tunic, leaving her in just her brassiere.

“When did you stop wearing small clothes?” he asked her gruffly. She laughed and shook her head as his fingers lifted the cloth from her breasts.

“I didn’t, vhenan,” she answered breathlessly. She watched him pull off his own tunic.

“There are no smalls,” he said as he rotated his hips, moving inside her. She gave a small cry and clenched on his dick.

“They came off with the breeches,” she whimpered. He grunted as an answer before shifting her on the bed so they were both on it. He wrapped her legs around his hips and ordered her to lift her hips up. He closed his eyes with pleasure as the movement pulled him deeper inside her. Before she could do anything else; however, he placed their pillows underneath her raised hips. She frowned at the action until he lowered her hips to the pillows and spread her legs wide.

“Oh, Maker,” she gasped when he held her hips and started pumping in and out of her. Her hands went above her head to push against the headboard as she locked her feet behind his thighs. Every stroke found the sensitive area just inside her opening as well as his pelvis hitting her clitoris. The friction sent her flying over the edge in seconds.

Once again he felt the walls of her pussy tightening on his dick, and this time she screamed aloud as she came. The sound echoed through his head and as she milked his dick he let go of his control.

Cullen managed to get the pillows out from under her without untangling her from himself. He held her tightly as she dozed half under him. He should feel like a fool for tromping after her the way he did; he was sure his men were laughing at him for making such a fool of himself over this woman. Yet he couldn’t find it in himself to care overly much. He had spent far too many years pretending he wasn’t worried about the consequences of loving her. Then far too many more daring anyone to discover them. Let all of Thedas think him a fool; she was his and he was no longer going to hide it.

“What deep thoughts are you thinking, my heart, to put such a serious look on your face after such wonderful pleasure?” he heard her asking him quietly.

“I worry about you,” he said. She gave him a sad smile.

“I know.”

Cullen gave a chuckle and leaned down to kiss her briefly.

“You will have to help me train the soldiers while you’re here, my love,” he said apropos of nothing and she laughingly shook her head in wonder.

“Of course, but why?”

“Most of them have never faced a mage, they should start with an experienced one,” he said before kissing her deeply once again. When she was breathless and clinging to him he rolled out of the mussed bed and began to put himself to rights.

“Arrgh!” she growled before leaping at him; knowing he would catch her.

“I have work to do Amell!” he playfully shouted just before her hands shoved his breeches to his knees as she lowered herself to her own.

“Aye; that you do Commander,” she said as she filled her mouth.


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

  


Bronwynn sighed wearily as she watched the Lord Seeker stalk away with the remaining Templars in Val Royeaux. She hadn’t needed the compassion spirit to tell her there was something not right about the man; although neither could pinpoint what exactly was wrong. She turned to the Revered Mother who had spoken so insultingly to her before the Templar had attacked her.

“Here, Mother, let me have a look,” she said gently as she took the woman’s face in her hands. The woman started to protest, but even her aides hushed her as Bronwynn ran healing magic over the damaged area.

“Why do you help me?” the woman asked with suspicion.

“Because I am a healer, Mother; I can’t let you suffer when I can stop it,” she answered. The woman’s eyes widened in shock. Bronwynn laughed gently at the look.

“Did you think I was grandstanding, as you were?” Bronwynn asked her. The Chantry Mother nodded before she thought about the question; startling many of those present with the answer. When the woman hung her head in shame Bronwynn sighed and stood up, stepping off the dias.

“Mother, I meant what I said; the Inquisition's main goal is to seal the breech in the sky, then find who put it there and killed the Divine,” she sighed and looked to said breech for a moment.

“What happens then; we will see-but it would be far easier if we didn’t have to fight the Chantry.”

Cassandra was nodding her agreement, as was Varric; although Solas kept silent. She turned once more to the Mother.

“The people of Thedas need the Chantry to be what it started as, Mother; a place of refuge and solace. A place of hope,” she then turned and walked away. The remaining crowd parted in silence as she and the others left.

Bronwynn gave Varric a dirty look when an arrow thwipped past her head.

“What? That wasn’t me!” he said; pointing to the crossbow still across his back. Cassandra and Solas both huffed a laugh.

“Should we even bother following the directions?” She asked aloud as she red them.

“Sounds like Red Jenny is active in Val Royeaux,” Varric said with relish. “I say we follow it, guaranteed it’s something we need to be aware of,” he said. The others didn’t care one way or another.

“My Lady Herald!” a courier called, causing Bronwynn to frown and turn.

“I’m not this popular in _Haven_ ,” she muttered, causing Solas to laugh once more. The courier gave her an invitation to a soiree being given by Madame De Fer. The mage shook her head and continued on.

The rest of the day was uneventful, although Bronwynn did make a point to stop at the Warden barracks. From there she made sure word was sent to the Wardens to meet at Haven. She wasn’t going to take a chance of not having a large enough force to take on whoever had killed the Divine.

* * *

The soiree the First Enchanter held was in her lover’s home; where she had spent most of her life. Bronwynn smiled and made small talk with her guests as she waited for the Iron Lady to make her appearance. She was unsurprised when a drunken noble began making accusations and chose to ignore his uncouth attempts to drag her into a public scene.

“Dear Bronwynn, I see you have managed to keep your graces about you, despite the unfortunate circumstances you find yourself in,” Vivienne’s cultured and slightly accented voice rang out seconds after the nasty noble was frozen with his hand upon his sword. Bronwynn gave a small smile and slight bow to the Circle mage.

“Vivienne, my dear! It is so good to see you again,” she said lightly as she kissed the Rivaini woman’s cheek. “I do hope you haven’t been inconvenienced by all this nasty business with the rebellious mages and Templars?” Vivienne gave a light laugh as she turned to face the Marquis. “Of course not darling; you know I don’t let little things disturb me,” Bronwynn stepped next to the dark skinned mage and looked at the drunk noble with her.

“My dear Marquis, you know how I deplore rudeness,” she said to him; he mumbled something unintelligible.

“You should know better than to speak to my guests in such a manner in my home,” she tsked at the man. Bronwynn didn’t need the compassion spirit to tell her the man was terrified.

“What shall I do with him, my dear; you’re the wounded party,” Vivienne asked the redhead.

“Let him go, Vivienne; I’m quite sure he’ll remember his manners from now on,” Bronwynn said with kindness. Vivienne smirked at gave him a good dressing down for the insult given; when the man slunk off she linked her arm through Bronwynn’s and led her to a more private area to speak.

“What are you expecting to get out of this Vivienne?” Bronwynn asked the society conscious mage.

“My dear, you know the last of the Loyalist Mages aligned behind me,” she hedged. Bronwynn shook her head.

“Madame, I won’t mind having you around to help keep the mages we already have in line; you’re gift for teaching is extraordinary,” Bronwynn said candidly.

“But the Inquisition isn’t a new Player on the field of The Game; what is you expect to get out of this?” Bronwynn asked again. Vivienne sighed and looked out at her guests.

“You really believe this Inquisition won’t have a hand in reshaping the world?” she asked the younger mage shrewdly.

“Oh, I know it will, Enchanter,” Bronwynn admitted.

“I want to be a voice in that change,” Vivienne said frankly. Something she would very rarely do. Bronwynn thought about what Vivienne could bring to the Inquisition.

“Very well, Madame De Fer. I ask only that you have the Loyalist Mages gather at Haven as soon as possible,” she finally said.

“Of course, darling. We can’t expect to solve this problem without the mages after all,” Bronwynn smiled wryly at the dark skinned Rivaini mage before once more kissing her on the cheek.

“See you at Haven, do be careful getting there,” Bronwynn said as she took her leave.

* * *

**Haven**

Bronwynn and Cassandra entered the cathedral to be greeted by the entire Inquisition council. Then a discussion ensued where they managed to talk circles around one another.

“Make a decision, the mages or the Templars-if you’re certain we can’t get both,” Bronwynn snapped in exasperation.  The three of them swallowed in embarrassment, yet all admitted they weren’t sure how to get around the dilemma.

“Put it about that we’ll take any mage or Templar that is tired of the conflict,” she said. “I’ll go to Redcliffe, see what Fiona has to say and meanwhile find out what you can about what the Lord Seeker has been up to,” Bronwynn said with assertiveness. They nodded and dispersed, with Leliana pulling her aside to give her information on the Wardens having gone missing.

“No other information at all?” Bronwynn asked with concern. The pretty bard shook her head and took a deep breath.

“There has been word of your friend Warden Blackwall somewhere in the Hinterlands; perhaps he’ll have more information,” she said. Bronwynn sighed and nodded agreement.

The mage found a quiet spot to take a deep breath and a moment of peace. Her eyes were closed as she took the moment to gather her thoughts when arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a tight embrace.

“I missed you, mage,” he said gruffly against her temple. She smiled and stretched onto her toes to wrap her arms around his neck.

“Oh, Templar, I wish I could have taken you with me,” she murmured into his neck. He sighed and held her more tightly.

“I want to take you somewhere we won’t be interrupted and simply hold you for the next thousand years,” he said to her. She chuckled and pulled away from him to look up into his face.

“That would require a magic I don’t know, vhenan,” she replied with humor. He grinned crookedly at her before kissing her deeply.

“Get some rest, my love,” he said after another moment of holding her.

“I could say the same to you,” she looked his face over carefully. “I have something that will help with the dreams, if you’d like,” she said softly. He gave her his charming smile and shook his head.

“I’ll sleep better with you here,” he replied and she let it go, though she knew it for the lie it was.

Varric waited for her outside the cathedral, he was speaking with a woman whose accent was clearly Tevinter. Something about the Bull’s Chargers was being said. Bronwynn sent her inside to speak with Josephine.

She and Varric made their way to the Singing Maiden, discussing the arrival of the red lyrium and various other interesting facts he had managed to ferret out. Bronwynn appreciated that Leliana was a better spymaster, but Varric’s sources were usually far more accurate.

“I was right about those notes being from Red Jenny,” he said to her as they entered, and there stood a pretty blond elf girl who actually wore shoes.

“Oh? And this would be the Red Jenny?” she asked as they stepped up to meet the woman.

“Sera,” the blond elf said as she looked at the mage.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Sera,” Bronwynn said. When the girl then began speaking almost nonsense, Bronwynn narrowed her eyes at her.

“Ahh, so that’s how it is?” she said with humor. Sera looked at her in confusion. “No, it’s quite allright, Sera. I can use people. Maker knows there are enough fools who will forget what we’re doing and why; people will remind them,” she went on. She could tell from the look on the elf’s face she wasn’t sure what to make of that statement, but she decided to go with it.

“Well, good then,” Sera replied.

“We won’t be staying long here in Haven this time, unfortunately Sera,” Bronwynn went on. Then she explained about the next steps for getting help with the Breech. It was clear Serah wasn’t excited about the prospect of having mages anywhere near her, but she wanted the sky fixed.

The day passed in a flurry of activity as the group made preparations for an early departure in a few days, and Bronwynn made it to her cabin mere moments before Cullen came in; as weary as she.

“I must apologize, my love,” he said as he fell into bed after a quick wash from the basin. She laughed sleepily as she crawled onto the mattress after him.

“No need, we’re both exhausted,” she curled into his side and was asleep in that moment.

* * *

“NO!”

Bronwynn squeaked when she hit the cold wooden floor of the cabin hard enough to bruise her bottom. It took her only seconds to realize Cullen had knocked her from the bed in his sleep. She raised herself cautiously to look at him; he was still thrashing, yet his eyes were wide open. She knew he was only seeing the demons and mages that had tortured him, and for the thousandth time she wished she had pressed him to come with her.

“You will not …” the rest was lost to mumbles. After their time in Kirkwall; where even the lyrium hadn’t completely taken away the night terrors, she knew not to cast any spells around him when he was like this. She quietly rebuilt the fire so it was roaring at full flame. She also lit candles to give the room more light, although it wasn’t really light he needed so much as the smell of melting wax. She had figured out that the mages had used magelight to keep the barracks lit. A cold light with no scent.

Bronwynn then went into the other room where her herbs were to make the sleeping draught she had offered him earlier. Unlike the one that she had discovered in the Tower, this one only blocked dreams; it didn’t force sleeping. He could take it when the dreams were especially bad or if he was far too tired or stressed when he went to bed.

There was a clatter of metal on wood from the bedroom and she was glad she had activated the silence rune when he came in.

“Bron!” he shouted, panic in his voice. She hurried into the opening of the room, but didn’t run to him. Staying calm herself kept him from panicking more.

“I’m here, vhenan,” she said loudly enough he could hear her. He stood beside the bed, sword in his hand and at the ready. She forced herself to keep her eyes on his face and not give into the desire to peruse his naked form.

She heard him exhale and watched his body relax with the assurance. He picked up his scabbard and sheathed his sword before slumping down onto the bed. Bronwynn took the weapon from his hands and placed it back on the post.

“Here,” she said, handing him a cup with the potion and tea. He made a face and tried to push it away and she wouldn’t allow it.

“It’s not going to force you to sleep, it’s only going to block the dreams so you will actually rest,” she said sharply with her amber brows drawn together. He swayed back at the force of her tone. She held it out to him again, her face stony and determined.

“You know,” he started to say and she let out a hefty breath and growled at him for once more trying to deny her help.

“You knocked me out of bed again, vhenan,” she told him with forced calmness. “Drink this so you sleep peacefully tonight at the least,” she insisted. He lowered his head in defeat and took the cup. He was pleased it didn’t taste foul.

“I’m sorr-” he began to apologize as she took the empty cup from him. She sealed her lips over his with a kiss that expressed both her love for him and her exasperation with him.

“I don’t want to hear it, my heart,” she said gently after a moment.

“But-”

“I already know you didn’t do it a purpose, so no saying you’re sorry,” she grumbled against his mouth. The cup made it to the dresser by the bed by some miracle. Neither would have noticed if it hadn’t when he laughed and pulled her back onto the bed.

* * *

**A week later back in the Hinterlands**

“You want me to do what?” Cassandra said to Sera with astonishment; which caused everyone else to burst into laughter. Even the too good for pranks Circle Mage had to laugh at the Seekers reaction.

“It’s not that weird!” the archer said.

“How? What? Why?” Cassandra couldn’t seem to figure out what question she wanted to ask first, which had the entire group stopping as they entered the camp near the region Warden Blackwall was supposed to be.

“Sera, I believe you have managed to actually render our Seeker speechless,” Varric said with good natured malice. Said Seeker pinned the dwarven bard with a hateful glare. He simply winked at her and gave her his charming smile.

“Okay, okay, enough-I don’t have the breath to laugh and keep walking,” Bronwynn complained as she gasped for air.

“Of course _you_ think it’s funny,” Cassandra grumbled, but Bronwynn saw the small smile that played around the Seekers lips.

“Cassie, she asked you to help her get the redheaded bargirl at the Singing Maiden, she didn’t ask _you_ to sleep with the girl,” Bronwynn retorted on a further giggle. The noble woman shook her head and stopped pretending to be affronted and gave into her own laughter.

“Herald!” one of the soldiers called, Bronwynn gave her head a final shake and went to the soldiers side.

Vivienne made it a point to ask the Inquisition’s soldiers if she could do anything to assist them. Most knew that she would help, and happily; but only if one needed magic to be done. The apostate Elf was more likely to pitch in for manual labor. The dwarf was good for gossip and the new elf seemed to be a friendly sort; if a bit crude.

“Okay thanks,” Bronwynn said as she stepped away from the guard.

“What is it?” Vivienne asked quickly.

“There are some bandits that are attacking refugees trying to make it to the crossroads, will you and Sera go help the soldiers clear them out?” Bronwynn asked the Enchanter. Others may have doubted Vivienne’s sincerity in wanting peace, but Bronwynn didn’t. The woman nodded quickly; as did Sera and they both left with several guardsmen to find the bandits.

“Have they seen this Warden?” Cassandra asked, her heavy Nevarran accent clear after the crisp accent of the First Enchanter. Bronwynn nodded and led the way further up the hill.

They found the dark haired man giving quick instruction to a small group of farmers with battered shields and swords and nervous looks. Bronwynn thought to herself that he looked like he had gained weight or gotten shorter when she called his name.

“Warden Blackwall!” he turned to face her with alacrity and frowned at her. Before he could say anything he raised his shield and caught two arrows on it.

Bronwynn and the others turned quickly and helped put down the bandits that were attacking. When he sent the farmers off to get their things back from the now dead bandits, Bronwynn asked the other three to go with them for protection.

“Are you sure?” Cassandra asked with suspicion. Bronwynn smiled at her and nodded.

“Some of this is Warden business, Cassie,” she said softly. When they were all well out of earshot as well as visual range she turned to the Warden…

Her fist caught him off guard and the blow knocked him to the ground. The mage stood her ground, at the ready; as she waited for him to shake off the surprise.

“I take it,” he said quietly and with some relief it seemed. “That you know I’m not Warden Blackwall.” He stayed on the ground, although he was sitting up.

“Aye, you could say that,” she affirmed. The man let out a deep breath, and again seemed somewhat relieved.

“I didn’t kill him,” he said to her when he looked up at her again. His dark brown eyes were sad but ernest.

“Tell me all of it,” she said harshly; reigning in her tears.

“Where to begin?” he seemed to ask himself. She smiled with disdain at the man.

“We have no time for; and this is not the place for dramatics,” she snarled at him. “Who are you?”

“Thom Rainier,” he said after a moment’s hesitation. She snorted and motioned for him to go on.

“Well, he found me drunk in a tavern in Churneau. He was impressed by my saving a barmaid from the local militia,” he went on, speaking almost as if he were someone else recounting the tale. Attempting to hide how ashamed of his behavior he was.

“You must be very good to have impressed him,” Bronwynn said shrewdly. The man shrugged his broad shoulders before answering.

“He thought so,” he was silent for a long moment.

“He said he was taking me to Val Chevin for the Joining,” he waved his hand to the north. “We were camping on the Storm Coast when we were attacked by Darkspawn,” here his voice got hard and she could hear an anger in his voice.

“He took a blow that was meant for me,” he had balled up one of his hands into a fist and slammed it against the ground. “He should have let me die,” Rainier said, and his grief was palpable and real.

She let him remain silent while she spoke with her companions. Compassion knew he wanted to help, to make things better. Knowledge promised to find out what had happened before Blackwall found him.

“Why didn’t you go to the Wardens in Amaranthine?” she asked him icily.

“I had no proof that Blackwall had recruited me, or that I hadn’t killed him,” he said as if that should be self evident. Bronwynn moved over to a nearby bench and sat down.

“We would have taken you without knowing Blackwall had recruited you,” she told him. His eyes widened in shock and his face paled. He started to stammer something but she waved him to silence.

“I believe you, Rainier,” she went on. “Yet now we have a problem, a rather large one at that,” she told him. He asked her what she meant.

“How much did he tell you about the Order?” she asked.

“He gave me a brief history, wanted me to understand that Wardens don’t interfere in politics without dire cause,” he said. She narrowed her eyes at him when she once again heard relief in his voice.

“You will have to tell me, Warden Recruit, why it is that you are glad for that,” she said as she stood up. She held out a hand to help him up. He took it cautiously.

“Why?” he asked her.

“Because people either don’t care about the politics, or are angered by the policy of not interfering,” she responded as she walked to the cabin they were close to. It was locked, but she made short work of it.

“What are you doing?” he queried, even more suspiciously now.

“You are going to become a Warden,” she said as she opened up her pack and pulling out a small vial. “Lie down,” she ordered, pointing to one of the beds.

“I don’t understand,” he said, not moving.

“Word is out that Warden Blackwall is the one who has been helping people, that Warden Blackwall is still recruiting,” she told him. He nodded to show he understood her so far.

“Well, that means Warden Gordon Blackwall is going to have to join the Inquisition,” she finished. He frowned.

“Why would he do that?” It was curiosity, not denial that filled the question, and now she smiled at him, a truly wicked smile.

“Because he and I were … friends,” she temporized. His eyes once more widened in shock. “Yes, not only were you found by a Warden, Rainier, you were found out by a close friend,” she said with sardonic humor.

“Why make me a Warden?” he asked her, and this time he sounded as if hope had been stripped from him.

“Blackwall wouldn’t have recruited you if you didn’t have something to offer the Order,” she said gently. “He was a very good friend, and I know he didn’t just pick you because you had a death wish,” she said to the man.

“He died for a worthless traitor,” Rainier said bitterly.

“He died for a brother, for another Warden,” she retorted. “That was my friend,” she said to forestall anything else he could say. “Once you agree to become a Warden, that’s it-you’re a Warden,” she reminded him.

“Drink this and lie down,” she repeated the order, more gently this time. He did as commanded.

“When you wake up we still have a lot to talk about,” she said and when he heard the humor in her voice this time he knew there was so much more and that she was looking forward to something.

* * *

Bronwynn had taken time to meditate and refresh herself while waiting for the new Warden to come to his senses. She made a hard decision in that time. She moved back into the cabin when she heard stirring inside.

Rainier was sitting on the edge of the bed, a shell shocked look on his face. He raised his head to watch her as she entered the cabin.

“How are you feeling, brother?” she asked him. He sat there staring at her for a long moment.

“Well, brother?” she asked. He shook his head as if to clear it then shuddered.

“Is there anything I need to know about this,” he waved his hand over himself with confusion.

“Not really, you will know when there are Darkspawn near, and even be able to tell how many there are; although that will depend on the terrain,” she said.

“First things first, though,” she said as she turned to him with seriousness. “You are still Warden Constable Blackwall,” He frowned at her.

“Why?” he asked her, a suspicion in his voice.

“As I said earlier, the world knows that Warden Blackwall is the one who has been doing all those things you were doing,” she nodded at him. “That means that Warden Blackwall is alive and well. Thom Rainier is the one who died that night,” she said with emphasis. He was still giving her a suspicious look.

“Look, you were doing good work there, helping people, that’s what Blackwall would have done,” she reached out and squeezed his hand. “Whatever you did before, it’s been answered for,” she said. He raised his eyes to hers and saw her sincerity.

“Very well, Herald,” he replied and she nodded.

They began making their way to the Crossroads to meet the others when he noticed a smile on her face.

“I’m afraid to ask about that smile, Herald,” he sighed. “Yet I have a feeling ignorance in this case would not be bliss,” he said to her, causing her grin to get wider.

“Oh, I’m not the one you need to be on the lookout for,” she said.

“Who then?” he asked, and his voice was gruff.

“Oh, the Inquisition’s Commander,” she quipped.

“Why?”

“Because he knows that Blackwall and I were lovers for a very short time,” she answered.

“I am almost afraid to ask,” he admitted after time had passed and she hadn’t elaborated. She turned her head to look at him and smiled maliciously.

“He holds a grudge because Blackwall said something to him once; and so, good luck with that,” he chuckled when he realized she wasn’t volunteering any information.

“What did the real Blackwall do to deserve the grudge, M’lady?” he finally asked her in exasperation, although there was a smile in his voice. She turned her green eyes to him and gave him a smile that set his heart aflame.

“I imagine having the man he _thought_ I had left him for thrash him has something to do with it,” she replied with humor.

“Now I have to hear the story,” he said with relish. The mage laughed and used the rest of the trip to the Crossroads to do just that.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

 Bronwynn and Blackwall entered the Crossroads to hear Varric and Cassandra arguing over whether or not they should go and find the Herald.

They both turned when they heard her laughing.

“I’m not lost,” she said to their disgruntlement.

“You took long enough,” the dwarf groused, causing her to laugh again.

“Since Blackwall and I haven’t seen one another in several years, Master Tethras; we had a lot of catching up to do,” she replied with humor. Varric shook his head and waved to the Seeker.

“Leliana sends a message; she would like us to come back to Haven instead of going to Redcliffe,” Her brusque tone and deeper accent gave the impression she was angry with the development; but Bronwynn suspected she was more confused.

“Did the message say anything else?” she asked.

“Something about an offer from a Tevinter Magister,” the dark haired woman replied as she handed her the message. Bronwynn read the missive quickly and frowned.

“Magister Gereon Alexius?” she frowned even more deeply. “Where have I heard that name?” she said to herself. She turned concerned eyes to Vivienne.

“No, dear, I do not recall the name,” the dark skinned mage said before she could be asked. Bronwynn smirked and winked to show she appreciated the answer. She and Vivienne had spent much time together while she had been in Val Royeaux with the Divine. This had given them time to get to know one another, and although Bronwynn recognized that the Rivaini woman was terrified of being nothing more than a nameless, faceless mage within the Circle; she was concerned with keeping mages safe within those circles as well as making sure mages learned the discipline necessary to be safe.

“Why would you know a Tevinter Magister?” Cassandra asked suspiciously.

“Because we exchange knowledge with their Circles, of course,” Bronwynn answered almost absently as she seemed to sink into her thoughts again. The squawk of outrage from the Seeker brought her out of her reverie.

“Not all mages in Tevinter are blood mages, Seeker,” Bronwynn said with disdain for her attitude.

“You would use their methods?” the woman demanded, hand on the hilt of her weapon. Bronwynn faced her fully, crossing her arms across her chest.

“I and every Circle mage within all of Thedas share knowledge, Seeker,” she said with heat. “You know how to read, and if you read something that you know is contrary to your beliefs would you continue to do so?” she asked the woman. Hot headed as she was, she recognized that her friend was asking her to think. She took her hand off the hilt of her longsword and grudgingly nodded.

“There are, of course, only a few mages from Tevinter any Circle would consult or trade with; dear Seeker,” Vivienne said with her normal quasi Orlesian accents. Bronwynn nodded her agreement.

“The name isn’t one I have ever traded with or written to; I think it’s a name I heard when I was leaving Kirkwall,” she said. Varric frowned at her in question. “The Wardens and I were attacked, several times by a new group out of Tevinter calling themselves Venatori,” she explained quickly. Once more she seemed to lose herself in her thoughts.

“Well,” Solas said suddenly, startling everyone. “Can we take the risk that the Rebel Mages will still be in the village if we go back to Haven at this juncture?” the apostate elven mage asked. Bronwynn smiled at him and shook her head.

“Just what I was wondering myself,” she said. She looked around and saw Scout Harding with the Lieutenant in charge of the soldiers helping the refugees; she called out for her.

“Yes Herald” the red haired dwarf girl said as she approached.

“What do you know about what is happening in Redcliffe Village, Scout Harding?”  Bronwynn asked her, before any of the others could start complaining.

“Actually, I have just gotten several reports from the scouts we sent in,” she answered brightly.

“And?”

“And it looks like the mages may  have made their situation worse than before; by making a deal with Tevinter,” she said with some concern.

“Really?” came the chorus from around her, making her and Harding laugh.

“Any idea how that happened?” Bronwynn asked the scout, who shook her head in the negative.

“No clue, but we do know that after kicking Bann Teagan out of Castle Redcliffe the Magister began sending out mages as scouts, and those that didn’t get into fights and die were heard asking about you,” Bronwynn smiled at the dwarf in response to her humor. She was quickly beginning to like the woman.

“The name of the Magister?” Bronwynn asked the woman hopefully.

“Gereon Alexius, and we’re not sure how he got here so fast,” Harding said with a shrug. Bronwynn thought a little more then turned to her group.

“Any opinions?” she asked.

“On what, exactly?” Sera asked with suspicion .

“Should we head back to Haven or should we go to Redcliffe?” Bronwynn spelled out. “I’d say split up, but I don’t think Fiona is going to listen to anyone. I also don’t think we should trust that she won’t make another stupid decision,” Bronwynn said with exasperation. Vivienne laughed dryly.

“Yes, we can’t leave her to her own devices for too much longer,” she quipped. It was clear from their tones they didn’t think very highly of the former Grand Enchanter.

“We can at least take the time to check on the village,” Cassandra said. Varric voiced his agreement with the Seeker, although Sera seemed to want to stay away from the mages. Solas was non-committal, as usual keeping his own council. Bronwynn bowed to the majority and they made their way to the village.

Bronwynn was unsurprised when they found yet another rift before the gate. She was surprised by the effect of the rift; twisting time around itself. She frowned after she closed it; that was far more than just a tear in the veil. The veil between the fade and the physical world simply separated the two; it had no relation to time at all.

They were given entrance to the village and Bronwynn shook her head when the agent announced that no one had known the Inquisition was coming. What game was that elf playing?

Bronwynn found a quiet place where no one was near and turned to her group.

“Varric, Solas; I would like for you two to make your way around the village. Get as many mages as you can to head to the Inquisition soldiers and out to Haven,” she said quietly.

“To what end?” Solas asked.

“I know that there aren’t many mages here in Southern Thedas who would willingly want to ally with Tevinter; and Tevinter wouldn’t take them on as allies anyway,” she explained.

“How do you know?” Varric asked.

“Tevinter has strict laws regarding new citizens. They must have sponsors and unless they have something to offer right away, no Magister will sponsor a group of mages this large. It’s a drain on the finances; and they would insist on training them to their standards. Indentured servants at the least, and that is the humans. The elves would be slaves flat out.”

The dwarf and elf sighed as she finished speaking.

“Ferelden wouldn’t stop them from leaving and becoming citizens of another country,” she went on. “But they wouldn’t be able to sell themselves into indentured servitude; and definitely Fiona can’t make that decision for the entire group,” she sighed and looked at the two.

“You two are the best suited to talk to the individual mages, get them to speak their minds. If they aren’t comfortable with the arrangement, get them to the Inquisition. I’ll talk to Fiona, find out what I can about this Magister,” they nodded and separated from the group as they reached the main road into the town. The rest made their way to the tavern to meet with the Grand Enchanter.

The four women and one man walked through the crowd to stand before the older elf mage; both Bronwynn and Vivienne looking at her with haughty disdain.

“Warden Amell, Enchanter Vivienne,” she said nervously. “Seeker,” she greeted Cassandra.

“What were you thinking, darling?” Vivienne asked her.

“Yes, Fiona, what were you thinking?” Bronwynn echoed. She looked between the two very powerful women and squared her shoulders.

“We needed help, the Templar’s were going to attack at any time and Tevinter was willing to help us,” she insisted.

“An attack that never came, I noticed,” Sera accused.

“You weren’t there, girl,” Fiona spat and Bronwynn raised her hand to forestall an argument.

“There were other options, Fiona,” Bronwynn said softly. “You could have gone to the Conclave; hell you could have at least gone to Haven,” she said with venom.

“It wouldn’t have worked,” the dark haired elf snapped back. Bronwynn shook her head and clenched her fists at her side to keep from hitting the older woman.

“Well not with that attitude, my dear,” Vivienne said with feeling. Cassandra grunted her agreement.

There was a sudden silence in the Tavern as the door was practically slammed open. The five women turned to face the door to see an older Tevinter male, followed by a younger man who seemed to be related to him.

“Bronwynn Amell?” the older man demanded near breathless. The redhead narrowed her emerald green eyes at the Magister but nodded. “I am Magister Alexius,” he said stepping forward to hold out his hand to her. She didn’t take it, just looked calmly at him.

“I understand, Alexius, that you’ve been looking for me?” she said in lieu of a cordial greeting. Her eyes flicked to the younger man, from whom she felt the blight. She noticed Blackwall looking at him as well. Either the man had gone through the Joining and was a Warden, or he was Blight infected.

“Yes,” the older man said with barely suppressed excitement. He motioned for a table; which two mages vacated for them. She carefully followed him and sat across from him.

“For what reason?” she asked him. “I doubt you expect me to join Fiona in her folly,” she said with heavy sarcasm.

“I could argue that she made a good choice given the circumstances; but the truth is I have a more pressing concern at this moment,” he said. There was an earnestness and frankness with his speech that Bronwynn wanted to believe. She could hear the compassion spirit telling her he was desperate.

“What is that?” she asked him, keeping her voice even.

“First, answer a question for me,” he said. She narrowed her eyes again and waited for him to ask the question.

“Do you actually have a cure for the Blight?” he demanded, although it came out more as a pleading whine. She heard the younger man whisper something that sounded like oh father.

“Well now, that depends,” she said, turning to the younger Tevinter mage. “How long have you been Blight infected?”

“Several years,” he said wearily. Bronwynn smiled with sympathy.

“The pain can be unbearable, I know. Here,” she moved and waved for him to sit in her seat. “Gordon, get me a bucket please?” she asked her fellow Warden. The dark haired man nodded and grabbed one from behind the bar. She handed him the bucket then went into her pack for a brief moment.

“Here, drink this. It won’t be pleasant,” she said, although she said it kindly.

Everyone in the Tavern watched with baited breath to see the outcome. Many of the mages in the Tavern had come from the Ferelden Circle and knew of her cure; others had heard about it second or third hand and had discounted it. Fiona was one of those who had discounted it. But she herself resented the Wardens for their treatment of her

The young man swallowed the vile liquid in one quick gulp. Bronwynn had gone to the kitchen to retrieve several cloths and another bucket filled with water. He opened his mouth as if to speak only to drop his head into the bucket he held to violently expel a dark oily liquid from his mouth.

“Don’t fight it, it will hurt less,” the redhead said soothingly as she placed a cold wet rag on the back of his neck as he heaved. Blackwall had grabbed the older man’s arm to keep him from rushing to his son. The illness passed quickly. In less than five minutes the young man was unconscious; but his color was returning to normal. Even Fiona could see he was no longer infected.

“There, he’s cured,” Bronwynn said to the Tevinter Magister. “Now you can leave Ferelden and leave the Southern Mages to their own devices.”

“I can do better than that,” the older man said, he sounded as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. Bronwynn and Vivienne made the same sound of disgust and doubt.

“I can give you all the Southern Mages as well as insight into The Elder One’s plans,” he said. Every man and woman in the tavern turned to look at the Magister and the sudden silence was deafening.

“You want to prove you’re turning against your masters?” Bronwynn said with rancor. “Then find a way to keep them from knowing you and the Mages have gone to Haven,” she waved at the men and women in the tavern. “Every man, woman, child and Tranquil; bring them to Haven and be willing to tell the Inquisition everything you know-and maybe you’ll be believed.”

The man was smart enough to realize that the girl was perhaps far more powerful than he had thought at first. She turned to the former Grand Enchanter.

“Fiona,” the older elf looked at her in awe. “Please see to it this young man is taken care of,” she then looked to the rest of the mages in the building.

“I have said it before but I’ll repeat it; the Inquisition is trying to close the breach. We will take any and all help we can get with one exception,” she made sure to look at each mage in the room. “I will not tolerate blood mages, but everyone else is welcome in Haven. The inquisition just wants to close the breach,” she looked at the Magister and gave him a cold smile.

“If you mean what you say, Alexius; then I’ll see you in Haven,” she nodded to the man and her group left. She stood outside the tavern for a moment and sighed wearily. The young man had given her a sheet of paper before she gave him the potion. She read it quickly before crumpling it up.

“What is it, Wynn?” Blackwall asked her. She shook a little when she heard it. It would take time getting used to that voice speaking.

“I think we should head to the Cathedral for a moment,” she said softly, giving him the paper. After reading it he frowned.

“Could be a trap,” he argued.

“Well, yes, but if I already know about it the trap is already sprung,” she quipped, grinning at him. He laughed in acknowledgment.

“What are you talking about?” Cassandra asked in exasperation. Blackwall handed her the note. “I agree, it may be a trap but it is worth a check,” she voiced. After a brief discussion they all agreed to the plan. Varric and Solas joined them as they reached the wooden building.

“We’ve managed to send as many as we could, there are a lot of agents for this Venatori cult,” Varric said softly, but casually.

“I had a feeling this was the case,” she replied before opening the Cathedral doors. Inside they found a rift spewing demons.

“Once more unto the breach dear friends,” she quipped sarcastically as she threw out an ice spell to capture several demons attacking a lone mage in the center of the room.

“That was not funny, Emerald,” Varric shouted as he and Bianca began taking out the demons she froze. Sera stayed back with Varric and Solas while Vivienne and Bronwynn joined Blackwall and Cassandra in the fray to cut down the demons as they came. when there was a lull in the fighting Bronwynn used the Mark to close the rift, wincing from the pain of it.

“How does that work, exactly?” He was handsome, this mage and Bronwynn smiled in response to his charm.

“Actually, I think it was part of a ritual meant to open the Veil that somehow went horribly wrong,” she said seriously. From the corner of her eye she caught a brief look of surprise on Solas’ face. “It exerts control over the Rifts because they are unstable; now I’m not sure if I’m actually stabilizing the Veil or making it worse at this point,” she shrugged. “As long as the spirits on the other side aren’t being pulled into this world and twisted, I’m happy with the results, though.”

The dark haired man blinked at the Free Marcher in shock.

“So, Serah; you know who I am, who are you?” she then asked him sweetly. He laughed at the obviousness of it.

“Getting ahead of myself again, I am Dorian Parvus, scion of House Parvus,” he said with an elaborate court bow.

“Altus or Magister?” she asked him plainly. Once more he laughed.

“Altus, although I am to inherit the Magisters seat,” he admitted. She sighed.

“Why are you here?” the redhead asked wearily. He gave her a sympathetic smile now.

“I’m here to warn you about a cult calling themselves the Venatori,” he said. “I was hoping Felix would be here by now,” he said with concern.

“Felix? The son of Alexius?” Bronwynn asked. “Young man who was blight infected?” The handsome mage nodded his head then frowned.

“What do you mean ‘was’ blight infected?”

“I gave him the cure; seems that was why Alexius was after me,” she answered. He grunted.

“I still want to help,” he said, and although he sounded confident, Bronwynn thought she heard some doubt in his voice.

“I’ll take all the help I can get,” she said after a brief moment. She heard Cassandra grunt in surprise and turned to face her. “Yes?”

“I am just surprised is all,” she answered glibly. Bronwynn laughed softly.

“Not all Tevinter mages are blood-mages, Cass,” she replied, to which the Seeker shrugged.

“Dorian,” she turned back to him. “Would you mind sticking around here and keeping us updated on what Alexius is doing? He says he will help us, but I don’t know that I can trust him,” she told him. He smiled even wider.

“And it allows me to prove my honesty as well, yes?” he asked. She smiled in return and nodded. Varric stepped forward after he gave his agreement to let him know who he could get information to.

A red marked raven cawed at them as they left the building and Bronwynn raised her arm for it to come to her. She gave it a few treats as she removed the message and sent it on it’s way.

* * *

** Haven **

Bronwynn stood at the War Table staring at the markers on the Ferelden side of the map as she listened to the three leaders bicker over the next steps.

“Sister Lei,” she interrupted suddenly, causing the three to silence. “What have we heard from Redcliffe?” she asked, looking up at the Left Hand of the Divine.

“The mages that Varric and Solas were able to speak to have brought good news,” she replied with a semblance of joy. “This Magister Alexius is as good as his word, he’s getting the mages here and as far as anyone can tell his superiors are none the wiser,” Bronwynn listened to her Orlesian accent and frowned. She felt something was wrong but couldn’t pinpoint it.  

“Herald?” Cullen asked. She held up a hand and concentrated on the map, for the first time he saw her actively seeking the counsel of her companions. It should have worried him, yet he found himself comforted to know he hadn’t been completely out of his mind all these years.

“Damn,” she whispered as she lightly struck the table.

“What is it, Herald?” he asked her again.

“I know we’re missing something, but neither I nor my companions can figure out what,” she replied with a sigh. “I just know it’s near here,” she put a marker over Therinfal Redoubt.

“What do you think it is?” Josephine asked curiously. Bronwynn shook her head.

“It feels like a Blight, but that’s not possible; because although I don’t hear it the same way as older Wardens, I do hear the archdemon. And I’m not hearing an archdemon,” she said with frustration.

“What does Blackwall say?” Leliana asked.

“He doesn’t hear an archdemon either.” Bronwynn was the only one who saw Cullen’s hand tighten on the hilt of his sword at the mention of her fellow Warden.

“Well, as the Templars have gathered at Therinfal Redoubt, perhaps there is something there as well,” Josephine responded.

“Can we approach them with the mages on our side now?” Bronwynn asked with a frown.

“As far as we know, Your Worship, no one knows that the mages have joined us,” Cullen answered with pride. “There is no reason we couldn’t at least try to get the Templars on our side as well,” he postulated. Bronwynn widened her eyes in happy surprise.

“How?” she asked.

From there the five of them discussed their options, deciding on a plan that involved the nobles of Orlais.

* * *

Bronwynn stretched the following morning before beginning the training with several of the Templars who had followed Cullen, as well as many that had survived the Conclave explosion. They were eager to learn and she enjoyed working with them.

“Get your shield up, Lissette! Don’t let Solas fool you!” she shouted as the apostate mage managed a strike that would have taken off the Templar’s head had he wanted it to.

“Rylen, I know you know better than to hold your shield that way! Vivienne, don’t be afraid to hit him with flame when you see that!”

There were groans of frustration from the Templars as well as the mages that trained with them as she went down the line. After half an hour Knight-Captain Rylen shouted at her that she should face one of them. She smiled at the former Knight-Captain of Starkhaven; Commander Cullen had just arrived at the practice ground.

“Shall I take you on, Knight-Captain?” she asked with pleasure. He shook his head and pointed to the Commander.

“You said he taught you the basics, Your Worship. Let us see how much good that will do you against the best of us!’ he goaded. Cullen blushed at the compliment but Bronwynn nodded and bowed.

“Indeed, he is the best of you, and if he’ll do me the honor?” she purred as she faced her lover. He grinned at her and bowed his agreement. Everyone made room for them. They heard wagers being placed, and Bronwynn was actually surprised to hear Vivienne bet against her.

“Are you sure you want to lose your money, Viv?” she called to the First Enchanter with humor.

“I know what Templars are capable of, darling. I fear you may have forgotten in your running wild with the Wardens,” she called back. There was good natured laughing; and a flurry of changing bets with the reminder that she was a Warden.

“Okay, Rylen, you and Vivienne get to be the judges,” Cullen called with good humor. “We’ll be sparring for real, since I don’t expect my mage to hold back, what are the terms?” he queried.

“Let’s be kind to the mage,” Vivienne said with a smirk. “First blood from an actual attack,” she specified. The lovers nodded their agreement and stood in the now very large circle of onlookers. Varric and Leliana could be heard shouting out odds. The two smiled at the antics before bowing to one another.

The ex-Templar was wearing his serrault glass armor with the mark of the Inquisition on the breast, he drew his veridium longsword and shield; holding it just at his chin, angled slightly down and to the right. Bronwynn was in her simple leather armor, although he could see the Warden insignia on her left shoulder. In her left hand she drew her own longsword and she faced him at the ready.

“You don’t really think your Warden training is going to help you against me, do you my love?” he asked her in all seriousness. She simply smiled and blew him a kiss; which caused a small dirt devil to blow up between them. He had duck behind his shield to keep debris from his face; and when he looked again she was gone, not even a footprint to mark where she was.

Cullen immediately dove forward and twisted one hundred eighty degrees so his shield was now facing where his back had been and he caught the flat of her blade against the metal. He heard her tinkling laughter and brought his sword down to scrape along the scepter that he still couldn’t see.

Bronwynn felt her spell wavering as he focused on dampening her magic, so she dropped the invisibility and danced away from his flurry of strikes, her own blade a blur of movement to match his as she blocked his.

She moved inside his guard as he feinted with a strike to her empty right side; she used the distraction of the movement she made both kiss his jaw and quickly freeze him. Before she could strike with the flat of her blade to end the bout, however; he had already nullified the spell and bashed her with his shield.

Brownynn grunted as she hit the ground but forced herself to keep rolling backward as she landed; and when his sword planted right beside where her head would have been she was grateful. She felt him pulling on the fade to make it stronger, make it more real and she frowned. She was feeling exhilarated from the exercise but was also thinking furiously to get a few steps ahead of the Templar. Clearly; his not taking lyrium any longer was having no effect on his ability to use the abilities he had learned.

The two faced one another breathing heavily. They were both grinning, and Bronwynn could see his body had relaxed when he realized he was still able to use his Templar abilities. She nodded to show she was just as excited for him as he was for himself.

She watched as his shield arm tightened for a brief second before he rushed in to feint with a strike to her right, she moved into the attack, this time hitting him with a quick stunning jolt of lightning to paralyze him, avoiding the shield bash he had planned. She made sure she hadn’t really hurt him before she placed her blade along the side of his neck and he yielded with an appreciative grin.

She had gotten accustomed to the Commander being unafraid of showing affection to her in front of others since they had arrived in Haven; yet it still warmed her heart when he did.

This time it embarrassed her as several voices whooped and yelled when he kissed her. He smiled when he saw the blush.

“Hey, hey! We’ve got a long day ahead of us; Herald, Commander - wait for tonight like normal people,” Rylen snarked at the two. Bronwynn tossed a snowball into his face in retaliation; which sparked a snowball fight in general.

Bronwynn managed to escape the melee with Cullen; although both were covered in snow. A guard ran up to warn them of an approaching group.

“Looks like mercs, Commander,” he said with a heavy Ferelden accent. “Led by one of them ox-men,” It took a second for the two of them to decipher what the guard meant.

“Oh, you mean a Qunari!” Bronwynn exclaimed, the man looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. Bronwynn laughed. “You’re from near Lothering, right?” she asked. He nodded and she just smiled again.

“Oh, wait, I remember now,” Cullen said with self disgust.

“What?” Bronwynn asked.

“The Bull’s Chargers,” he answered as he moved towards the gates.

“Oh! The Merc group!” she said as if a bolt of lightning had struck her as well. She followed the Commander to the gate and they walked together to meet the mercenary company as they came up the road from the valley. She decided she liked Cremisius, the young man clearly loyal to his commanding officer. The Qunari, on the other hand, she wasn’t so sure about. When he asked to speak with her privately she waved the Commander away; knowing he wouldn’t go too far away just in case.

“A protective man, your Commander,” The Iron Bull commented when he saw Cullen had only gotten out of earshot of normal speech, not a raised voice.

“Aye, that he is,” she replied while watching the horned man. “So, are you Vashoth or Tal Vashoth?” she asked  him bluntly. He looked startled, as if he hadn’t expected her to know the difference.

“Neither, actually,” he replied warily. “I’m Ben Hassrath,” he waited for her response.

“And what exactly do they want with the Inquisition?” she asked him.

“It’s pretty clear the Inquisition is the only group doing anything about the hole in the sky,” he answered candidly. “My superiors want me to join the Inquisition, get close to the leaders and report,” he shrugged his massive shoulders as if to say it wasn’t important.

“So offering to get paid to join the us?” she asked with humor, he grinned.

“The boys get paid to do a job, they may want to close the breach, too; but they deserve to get paid to do it. Look, we’re the best and we can help. You also need a front line bodyguard and that’s me,” he said. She looked at him carefully.

“You’ll coordinate everything through Leliana?” she asked, he nodded and she breathed out and welcomed him aboard. She was unsurprised that Cullen slid his arm around her waist when she joined him again.

“You do know that I don’t need reminding who I’m engaged to, yes?” she whispered mischievously. He frowned at her until he realized she was teasing him.

“I like touching you,” he replied in answer and left it at that.

* * *

** Haven, three days later **

"The nobles of Orlais have finally agreed to help us with the Templars,” Josephine said exuberantly as the Council met that afternoon.

“So now we’ll have some clout to get the newly ambitious Lord Seeker to pay attention to us,” Bronwynn replied dryly. “The games Orlesian’s play,” she muttered.

“As if the Circle didn’t have it’s own politics,” Cullen reminded her and she laughed.

“I got used to the Wardens, my heart,” she said. “Our politicking was very much about who got what cushy assignment and that was pretty much it,” she loftily informed him; causing everyone in the room to laugh.

“I bet you have a bridge to sell me, now?” he asked her dryly.

“To get back to the point,” Leliana said while attempting to sound serious and failing.

“Yes, let us do so,” the Nevarran Seeker chimed in around her own laughter.

“Okay, so we can meet the crem dela crem of  Orlesian society at the Redoubt,” Bronwynn sighed. “Let us hope that will get the man’s attention,” she shook her head as she said this.

“If you can get the Templars without the Lord Seeker, hang him,” Cullen said vehemently. “We Templars were never supposed to follow the Seekers in any case,” he reminded her. Cassandra nodded her agreement.

“Then off to Therinfal we go, Seeker; to find out if Lambert has a holy mandate,” the Herald of Andraste said with false cheer.

 

 


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to remind everyone that any errors are mine. I'm not trying to quote the game, and it is my version of the universe, so please don't get upset if I am not perfect in my recreation of it.  
> And have you ever had trouble getting that one scene just right? Well this one is the first of them that I struggled with. You'll know which one I speak of.

**Chapter 36**

Gordon Blackwall stood on the hill overlooking the Templar stronghold of Therinfal Redoubt and frowned with concern. He and Bronwynn had spent a lot of time talking about the new things he could do, but he had a feeling that what he was sensing couldn’t be right.

“Wynn,” he said softly as she stopped beside him, she turned those amazing green eyes to him. The man he used to be would have figured out how to take what he wanted from her; but she knew who that was and still looked at him with respect. Whatever Blackwall had seen in him, she had decided to see it too. For all that he wanted her to want more from him; he was grateful for what he did have.

“You feel it, too?” she asked him quietly. He nodded and turned his worried gaze back to the fortress.

“That is a lot of Darkspawn if we’re right,” he said. She sighed and nodded her agreement.

“I don’t think it is Darkspawn, though,” she admitted, and sounded no less worried than that thought made him feel.

“What could it be, if not Darkspawn?” he asked her.

“That,” she said with a dry laugh. “Is what we need to find out.” She then moved forward again after patting him on the shoulder. He grumbled about hating surprises and followed her.

“Herald of Andraste!” she turned to the noble who had called out to her. Blackwall watched the interaction and wondered how she could be so calm when talking with the nobles. She managed to give the impression she was one of them without actually behaving like an aristocrat. He wasn’t sure why that amused him, but it did, seeing these autocratic asses bending over to gain the favor of a woman that a few weeks ago they wouldn’t have pissed on to put out if she had been on fire.

“These arse biscuits would have done better to pay attention before there was a hole in the sky,” Sera said from behind him, echoing his thoughts.

“Aye, that they would have,” he agreed.

“Why do you call her Wynn?” the elf asked him suddenly and he smiled as if remembering something special.

“Because it suits her,” he replied however. He watched her eyes narrow as if she sensed some sort of great secret. He just smiled and moved on, he knew she’d figure it out eventually.

Like the others he stopped when they reached the beginning of the bridge over the moat. The conversation was muted and he tuned it out as he concentrated on the sensation of the blight he was feeling.

“It’s getting stronger, and I have to admit that has never happened to me,” he heard his fellow Warden say. He simply nodded.

“Wait, Sister,” he cautioned her. “We can’t be sure,” and she snorted but nodded her agreement.

The party shook their heads in general amusement as they passed the various nobles who were posturing for the Templars. Men and women who were unused to dealing with anyone other than clerics or mages were finding themselves overwhelmed with it all.

Bronwynn rolled her eyes as someone announced the Templar who was waiting for them in the crowded courtyard. She approved of his cutting Abernache off, the man was truly an overblown prick.

“I wasn’t expecting such … lofty company,” the Rivaini man said with trepidation.

“We needed the Lord Seeker to take us seriously,” Bronwynn replied.

“This need for recognition has gone beyond all sense,” Barris told the Herald with concern.

“If he is holding you back from your duty, then come with us to Haven,” she pleaded. “We don’t need him to approve.”

“We do,” the Templar Knight sighed and shook his head.

“Barris, is there an entrance to the Deep Roads here?” Bronwynn asked him; and those who heard her were confused.

“No, not that I have ever heard,” he answered and she looked back at Blackwall who nodded.

“Abernache,” she said quietly but with authority. He stepped closer to her. “I and my fellow Warden sense the Blight here,” she told him. He gasped but kept his facade calm.

“Good, you understand, get the civilians out of here; quickly,” she commanded. He nodded and began to round up his fellow nobles.

“Knight-Lieutenant, I need to know if anyone who came to this fortress was blighted,” she asked him. He frowned and shook his head and she let out a breath with concern.

“What do you mean you sense the Blight?” he asked her, deeper concern overlaying his own voice.

“Knight-Lieutenant, we Wardens can sense the blight, and I don’t know how that is if there are no Darkspawn or infected people in this fortress,” she watched as his eyes closed and he shuddered.

“The new lyrium,” he said almost too softly for her to hear.

“What new lyrium,” Cassandra asked before Bronwynn could get the question out.

“The Lord Seeker started giving red lyrium to the commanders,” he answered. “It is the only thing that is new,” he explained and Varric muttered some very colorful curses.

“Did no one pay attention to what happened in Kirkwall?” he demanded, and Sera placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

“Okay, so we need to find out what’s going on and we need to do it quietly and quickly,” Bronwynn went on as if Varric hadn’t spoken.

“I’ll take you in,” Barris said and turned to lead the way. The group adjusted their armor and weapons as they followed the Templar into the Templar stronghold.

* * *

Barris opened the door into what appeared to be a makeshift meeting hall. Well lit with candles it was warm and inviting, but both Bronwynn and Blackwall could feel their skin itching from the nearness of the blight.

There was a commotion from the other end of the room when a man wearing the armor of the Knight Captain entered followed by several others. Bronwynn opened her Sight and gasped. These men were riddled with the Blight; but not in any way she had ever seen it before.

“Knight-Captain!” Barris shouted, when the man turned to face the Templar. Even through his helmet they could see he wasn’t well. Bronwynn shook her head in shock.

“He’s blighted,” she said aloud, and the shock on her face was echoed in her voice. “They all are! How in the Abyss can they be blighted?” she demanded of no one.

Barris had turned to face her, confusion clear on his face when the other Templar’s attacked.

Iron Bull, Blackwall and Cassandra seemed to flow to the front of the line with Barris; the three shield holders forming in solid wall in front of the ranged fighters. Bronwynn and Vivienne stood behind the fighters with shields and used the cover for themselves as well; the two Circle trained mages throwing fire and ice in quick succession to stop the enemies in their tracks. Bronwynn could hear Solas behind them trying to keep up and part of her wanted to laugh at his lack of discipline. What he lacked in discipline; however, he made up for in power and creativity.

Varric and Sera put two arrows into the last guy at the same time, leaving everyone panting from the exertion. Bronwynn walked over to the still breathing Knight-Captain and shook her head as she bent down to check him.

“If we give him a healing potion he’ll hold on long enough to be questioned,” Barris said and Bronwynn agreed. “Let us go find the Lord Seeker,” the Knight-Lieutenant said, and the anger in his voice would have chilled a flame.

The group split up to search the fortress, hoping to find and save as many Templars as they could. All were disheartened by the number of officers that had been blighted that they had to fight. Bronwynn shivered at the thought of these men and women taking anything that would corrupt them so.

Both halves of her party met at the foot of the stairs leading into the cathedral. She could hear someone calling to her; but she wasn’t sure if it was human or not, or if the sound was in her ears or head. Her spirit companions were both telling her something was very wrong, they both felt the presence of a powerful demon; and when she reached the top of the stairs she found it.

“Lord Seeker?” she asked hopefully. The creature; although wearing the Lord Seekers face, laughed at her as it grabbed her and attacked.

* * *

* * *

_ Bronwynn shook her head to try and clear it. She could hear Cassandra and Blackwall shouting as if from very far away and knew that had to be wrong. When she looked around she could see why; this was a nightmare realm and she didn’t belong here. _

Tell me what I want to know _she heard the sibilant hissing of the demon demanding from her; but she knew she was in her head and so it was her domain and she was in control._

 _‘_ Good, you figured it out’ _she heard another voice say. It wasn’t one of her spirit companions, but she knew it was a spirit._

_“Who are you?” she asked as she built shields around her mind to block out the demon._

_‘_ My name is Cole, I wanted to help. Envy wants to be you.’ _She said ‘ahh’ now that she had a name for the demon that was attacking her._

_“Envy, hmm. Well at least I know what to do even if I’ve never had to do it,” she said to the new spirit. She turned her head to face the way forward and wondered how she hadn’t taken complete control of the terrain. Suddenly there was a young man before her; she’d seen him somewhere before but couldn’t place where._

_‘_ It wants to be you, it will make you hurt to get what it wants, keep going up and it will get weaker,’ _he told her. She nodded at the young white haired man and moved forward._

_The demon tried to distract her, to draw her into conversation or debate. Had it not been for her own spirits of compassion and knowledge holding strong against the onslaught she may have given in._

_‘_ Ideas are loud here, make them louder and keep going up, you’re making Envy angry; but that’s okay. So are you.’ _Cole also urged her forward, helping her stay the course when she would have faltered and reacted._

_Bronwynn reached the foot of the stairs to the cathedral in her head and sighed with frustration. She wanted this over. She went to open the door and the demon grabbed her from behind and spun her around._

Unfair! Unfair! That thing kept you whole, kept me from taking your face! _it hissed as it lifted her against the door. The spirit calling itself Cole distracted it long enough for her to attack it; causing it to leave her mind and flee into the cathedral._

* * *

* * *

“Lord Seeker!” Barris shouted in dismay. Bronwynn cleared her throat and shook her head.

“No, an imposter. An Envy demon wearing his face,” she told him with regret.

“So the Lord Seeker…” Cassandra said then trailed off; not wanting to say what she was thinking.

“Is either dead or caged,” Barris finished for her. “It was the red lyrium, wasn’t it Your Worship?” he asked her. Shen shrugged.

“I’m not sure, Knight-Lieutenant. What I do know is we have a chance to stop this now. I want to kill that demon,” she said with vehemence.

Barris called on the Templars who were in the Cathedral to tell him about Envy, and Bronwynn knew it was more to make sure they all knew what they were up against.

“Get me the veterans, if there are any left, Herald; and the untainted lyrium and I’ll give you Envy,” he told her. She nodded and turned to her group of fighters.

“Vivienne, Blackwall, Sera, and Solas; stay here in the hall. Help the Templars fend off any attacks,” she ordered before heading out to the west courtyard to find who she could.

The attack by the corrupted and twisted Templars was fast and disturbing. Bronwynn was still having trouble wrapping her head around the soldiers being so riddled with the blight. Especially as these men and women were now partly crystal; not just blighted.

After dispatching the last of the Horrors they followed Knight-Lieutenant duBois into the Great Hall and quickly dispatched the Red Templars who were attacking.

They all took a moment to catch their breaths and Bronwynn checked on the Templars, making sure they were all unharmed. She led Varric, Bull and Cassandra out the other side to grab the lyrium stores and any other veterans they could find.

They moved quickly to find a single veteran; Knight-Lieutenant Primmer. After helping him they headed back down to find the lyrium stores; and in the process found a room with plans for the assassination of Empress Celine. Cole appeared to the group to say he hates her, but wasn’t clear on who ‘he’ was. Bronwynn grabbed what she could that looked important to the plot and the group headed back to the Great Hall.

Another group of Templar Horrors had come in and she threw out a blast of icy wind to slow the creatures down. The others made quick work of the creatures and once more Bronwynn checked on the Templars. When she was sure they were fine she turned to Barris expectantly.

“Keep them off us while we break this beast!” he called as he and the other veterans began their ritual.

“Sera, Varric, Solas, Vivienne get up high and hit them hard!” she called out. “Bull, you watch the right, Blackwall with him. Cassandra, with me on the left!”

There was no desperation in this fight; all of them felt anger and frustration that their enemy had somehow managed to corrupt one of the most trusted Orders in all of Thedas.

The eight of them held off the waves of corrupted Templars as they came pouring through the barriers the demon had erected. The Iron Bull could be heard shouting as he plowed through the creatures as they swarmed him and Blackwall. Any that made it past the Qunari had to face Blackwall’s shield and sword. They were both aggressive fighters and kept their opponents off center.

Cassandra proved to be an immovable wall, although she was constantly on the move. She kept a six foot line in front of her clear at all times, protecting the mage behind her as best she could. Bronwynn made sure to keep protective shielding on the Seeker at all times, tossing freezing winds and boiling flames where she could to slow the enemy. The few crystallized Templars who did make it past the Seeker met Bronwynn's enchantments.

Solas and Vivienne played to their strengths; Solas using his magic to enhance the ground fighters while Vivienne concentrated her attacks on the creatures that were coming through the barrier. Varric and Sera seemed to be having a contest on who could kill the most horrors.

Cassandra was breathing heavily after striking down a particularly nasty brute when suddenly the barriers were gone. All eight fighters sagged in exhaustion when they realized there were no more monsters to fight.

“There, finish it!” Ser Barris shouted as he and the others collapsed to the ground; their own exhaustion clear. Everyone took a deep breath and found their second wind.

“Come on my friends,” Bronwynn said with a steely determination. “We’re not letting this monster harm another,” she moved quickly up the stairs behind the dias; leading the way.

The envy demon put up a true fight, and the group had to fight harder for their already exhausted state. It focused it’s attacks on Bronwynn, still attempting to find a way to make itself in her image. It’s frustration as it failed time and again gave them their only openings to defeat it.

Bronwynn hit her knees when Bull took the killing blow after Solas had turned it to ice one final time. She, like the others, was shaking from the exhaustion the fighting had caused.

Vivienne walked unsteadily over to the Herald and held out a bottle of lyrium.

“No, thank you dear,” Bronwynn gasped as she found the energy to stand.

“You need this,” the dark skinned Enchanter snapped, evoking a wry smile from her fellow mage.

“No, I need time to breath, Vivienne,” she replied simply. Vivienne frowned in confusion at the woman who ignored the look and squared her shoulders before heading back into the cathedral.

She looked at the assembled Templars, she could see the defeat on their faces, and also the pride. These men and women had wanted more than anything to serve; to protect. She could take away that pride by leashing them, or she could let them keep that pride by allying with them.

The part of her that had been hurt by Templars wanted to take revenge on them for that pain; but Bronwynn knew that these men and women weren’t guilty of the torture. Ser Barris stepped up and asked what they should do and she laughed at the irony.

“We need to seal this breach,” she said as she looked once more at the faces of these devout men and women. “While we have been bickering over rights and wrongs; over mage or Templar innocent lives have been lost to the demons the breach forces from the veil,” she sighed and looked at Barris; and he could see the sorrow in her eyes.

“I could demand you cease to be the Templar Order and follow the Inquisition,” she said to him; although all could hear her. He nodded, with reluctance.

“I could also simply say you’re not worth the trouble and leave you to figure it out on your own,” there were a chorus of gasps around her when she said that.

“What?” Barris asked, his confusion clear.

“I am one of those mages that suffered at the hands of Templars,” she said candidly. Every Templar there cringed and she nodded.

“I know that you all want to serve; to protect. Will you help the Inquisition, Templar Order, to seal the breach and protect the innocents from the demons?” she asked them. Her heart was in her voice, and there was a pleading in her eyes that touched them all.

“Will we join the Inquisition?” Ser Barris asked his fellows. The resounding cheer echoed throughout the building. He turned to her and told her they had to gather what officers they had left; but they would meet them at Haven within the week. Bronwynn nodded and she and the others made their way out of the Redoubt.

“Red lyrium is blighted?” Varric asked dubiously.

“I don’t know, Varric. Once that lyrium shard you had left gets to us I’ll know more,” she answered with her own trepidation. “I just know that I felt the blight from those corrupted by the lyrium,” she shivered in reaction.

“That’s really not good,” Varric said softly.

“No, it really isn’t,” Blackwall said as an echo.

* * *

** Haven **

Bronwynn found herself leaning against a post in the cathedral in Haven a few days later after the War Council session. Her lover stood before her with his arms akimbo on his hips and scowling at her as she laughed. She couldn’t help it, the look on his face when the spirit boy appeared on the table.

“You were startled as well,” he groused at her when she finally started to wind down.

“Yes, but I didn’t take a full three seconds to draw my sword,” she replied; and he had to admit that had been true. She had readied an ice spell before the smoke had cleared from his sudden appearance.

“He’s a demon,” the ex-Templar started to say when she shook her head. “Then what is he?”

“He’s a spirit, as far as I can tell; and no he’s not possessing a body,” she assured him. He frowned.

“You’re certain?” he demanded and she nodded.

“Compassion, I believe,” she shrugged. “I will have to talk to him more to be sure, but that is what he feels like to me,” she reached out and caressed his cheek. He sighed and kissed her briefly.

“I will want to hear more on the Envy demon, Herald,” he said quickly. “It will have to wait, however. There are preparations that are needed for the Templars,” he kissed her once more and left the building. She sighed and turned to see Vivienne waiting to speak with her.

“Yes, First Enchanter?” She asked pleasantly. Vivienne’s frown was formidable and had Bronwynn been anyone else she most likely would have flinched under the look.

“You shouldn’t be so affectionate in public, dear. It looks bad,” she was told with haughty concern. Bronwynn linked her arm through Vivienne’s and smiled.

“For the first three years of our relationship we kept it behind closed doors,” she told the slightly older woman.

“After that?” Vivienne asked with reluctant curiosity.

“We were in Kirkwall; and somehow with all the chaos that was happening, it was never noted by the other Templars or mages that we were together. We didn’t flaunt it, Vivienne; yet neither did we hide it,” she shrugged and the two women sat before one of the fireplaces in the hall.

“He is the Inquisition’s Commander. You are the Herald of Andraste, it could be misconstrued,” the Rivaini woman scolded.

“There are those who would say the same of your relationship with Duke Bastien,” Bronwynn said kindly.

“How?”

“You have the authority to make decisions for him, for his lands. You advise him; you have power over hundreds, if not thousands of lives.”

Vivienne looked horrified at the implication.

“Comparing me to Andraste; as people will, would cause enough problems. Cullen and I being open about our relationship actually mitigates the harm,” she held out her hand to forestall the next question on Vivienne’s lips.

“Because he is a Templar, and a fine warrior. Those who follow him do so because of his honor, his commitment to Andraste and his faith. The people will see this man and think If he loves her she must be like unto Andraste herself. They will believe that I truly am chosen by Andraste herself to lead the world into peace,” she shrugged and smiled at the older woman.

“I have not said that I am the chosen of Andraste, I have not said that I was saved by Andraste. I do not believe it to be true,” she looked at the doors to the Cathedral as they opened to let in a group of nobles intent on speaking with Josephine.

“Yet you know what you say matters not,” Vivienne said with understanding.

“Exactly.” Bronwynn’s green eyes met the leader of the Loyalist mages own and she gave a small smile. “The Game is played the same, no matter what. What people see is what they want to see; and the people want me to be Andraste’s Chosen. I want to be able to show that I love this man; if letting people see something else is what it takes, then so be it,” she said. Vivienne nodded her understanding. This is what she felt for her Bastien.

“Now, you wanted something else, I’m sure,” Bronwynn said wearily, relaxing into the heavily cushioned seat by the fire.

“Yes, we have finally received word that the last of the mages are coming from Redcliffe; Alexius and his son will be among the group. That Parvus fellow has already arrived,” she informed the Herald who sighed then laughed.

“And Leliana didn’t tell me because she was hoping to spring it on me later,” Vivienne smiled, showing her even white teeth.

“One must never underestimate the Nightingale,” Vivienne said softly. Bronwynn turned her head and narrowed her eyes at the hovering red haired bard with humor.

“No, one must not,” she leaned forward and bussed Vivienne’s right cheek before standing and heading out the door. Cullen had to deal with accommodations for the Templars, she would have to do so for the mages.

And they would not be happy with the accommodations.

* * *

Bronwynn stood like a bright flame against the ash of destruction at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. She felt her spirit companions quail at frailty of the veil and wondered herself how it had not been rent completely asunder by the violence and bloodshed. It had only been a few months since the explosion and yet already felt as if a lifetime had passed.

Cullen stood with the Templars, Vivienne with the Mages and Cassandra stood next to the mage with the green fire in her left hand. Getting to this point had been more than trying, and now Bronwynn prayed that she had the fortitude to use the power the mages and Templars were going to share with her.

“Mages, Templars!” Cassandra shouted and Bronwynn took a deep breath.

“Focus your energy past the Herald, let her will draw from you!” Solas instructed and after a long moment there was the sound of metal meeting stone and a deafening shout from those assembled. For one shining moment Bronwynn could feel the power hovering, indecisive on it’s target before she wrapped her will around it.

Bronwynn Amell; Circle Mage, Warden and Herald of Andraste raised her marked left had to the seething energy that was the Breach so far above them. There was a searing fire of green energy that burst from her hand and arm as she concentrated on closing the hole in the sky that was torturing so many innocents.

She never heard the scream that was wrenched from her throat, she didn’t know she had fallen. She knew, however, when the Breach was sealed, she could feel the calmness in the veil. Not perfectly closed; but sealed.

Cassandra reached out a hand to help the Herald up from the ground, a look of relief on her face. Bronwynn smiled at her friend, weary from the exertion but happy. Before she could do more, strong arms turned her around and wrapped her in their safety. She sighed and allowed him to pick her up, she was very tired.

* * *

Night had fallen on the celebration at Haven, the stars were obscured by the light of the many fires within the valley; yet she they were calling saviour stared pensively out over the celebrants and worried.

Alexius had kept his word and brought the Southern Rebel mages to Haven without his ex-masters being the wiser. Ser Barris had ensured that the remainder of the Templar order had arrived in a timely and orderly manner. There had been some grumbling from both sides when they realized that the Inquisition wasn’t going to choose a side; that it truly meant to close the breach and that was it. Yet, when faced with the sight of the marred sky so close to them; most had chosen to forego the arguments and discord.

Those that hadn’t had found themselves ostracised but not allowed to leave. Cullen, Leliana and Josephine made it clear that the safety of those at Haven was paramount and they would tolerate no deserters. Which Bronwynn found amusing coming from the Ambassador, yet she managed to make those who wanted to keep fighting, stop.

Cassandra appeared beside her and confirmed that Solas said the sky was healed. Bronwynn kept her own counsel about that. They conversed for a short time, and Bronwynn was getting ready to leave the party when the horns sounded and Cullen could be heard shouting _To the gates_ above them.

“One watchguard reporting, a large force coming over the mountain,” He replied to Cassandra’s query as the two of them reached the gates.

“Under what banner?” Josephine demanded.

“None,” was the answer. Everyone looked at him with surprise at that answer.

“Herald, what are you doing?” he demanded when she began barking orders at her circle.

“Going to meet them, Commander. Get the civilians to safety. Mages, Templars on me!” she shouted. “Let’s show these bastards what we’re capable of when we fight together!” There was a deafening roar as the two groups immediately began to split themselves to follow her party. The Bull’s Chargers took command of five mages and five Templars and followed Bull’s orders to help Cullen get the civilians to the chantry and to guard it with their lives. Vivienne pulled the most powerful of the Loyalist and Rebel mages to her; gaining a dozen Templars to help guard them as they fought.

Cassandra took command of another group of Templars and mages while Leliana got a dozen mages to higher ground for better defense.

The rest followed what orders Bronwynn or Blackwall or Varric shouted as they ran to the trebuchets to guard them until they could fire.

Bronwynn and Blackwall could see, barely, a tall creature on a rise. Standing next to him was a woman in mage robes and a man in Templar armor.

“Darkspawn Emissary!” Blackwall shouted and Bronwynn groaned but nodded to show she had heard. They took no more time to speak or speculate, the fight was fierce and prolonged. Templars corrupted by red lyrium and mages shouting about the Elder one.

Bronwynn caught a fireball to her left side and was temporarily blinded although unhurt. Her shields held solid; and then she heard two voices shouting the same word. Before she could turn to face what she thought was a new threat she felt a soothing wetness slough over her shields, putting out the fire; then she caught the tail end of an ethereal deluge as it swallowed several enemy mages and drowned them. When she turned to see who had cast it, there was Gereon Alexius and Dorian Parvus side by side.

From her right came Felix Alexius and another twenty mages.

“Go, Herald, we’ll protect this trebuchet; the other one isn’t firing!” he shouted at her. She nodded and took off, followed by Blackwall, Sera, Varric and Bull.

It took them longer than she would have liked to get the trebuchet ligned up and fired; they stayed under attack and only Bull was strong enough to turn it quickly. Bronwynn almost choked on her breath when the red crystal behemoth staggered close, followed by one of the rebel mages who hadn’t wanted to come to Haven. However, as Solas and Cole came running in, followed by more Templars and Mages the fight was over quickly.

The sight of the avalanche pouring down on the enemy soldiers was heartening to everyone. How that they had so many numbers was frightening to contemplate.

Bronwynn and Blackwall looked up to the sky seconds before the sickened roar of a dragon was heard. Both swallowed in fear when their first instinct was to shout Archdemon. It destroyed the trebuchet in a single lyrium fire strafe and everyone ran.

They made it back to the town, managed to close the gate as the dragon made another strafing run, just missing them.

“Get to the Chantry,” Cullen ordered sullenly. “At this point just make them work for it.”

There was fighting inside the walls, and they didn’t have much time but everyone of her circle took time to meditate for just a moment. Bronwynn pulled on the fighting around her, the emotions and turmoil. She felt the power as it filled her and she moved determinedly forward, followed by the ten others. They made short work of the mages and red Templars inside the walls, getting whomever was left to the Chantry.

Once inside Bronwynn took a look around and felt the fear that pervaded the space. Cole was helping Chancellor Roderick while Dorian argued with Cullen over the next step. Bronwynn heard a roaring in her ears and forced herself to calm down and listen to the spirits that were clamouring for her attention.

“Chancellor, let me help,” she insisted after a moment.

“Why?” he demanded and she shook her head at him.

“Because I’m a healer and I have to try,” she gently told him. Cole was right though, he was going to die. She did what she could to ease the pain and give him strength to last a little while longer.

“We could turn the trebuchets on the mountain behind us,” she heard Cullen say and her head snapped to him.

“We’re not killing ourselves to stop that thing,” she said with finality. “There has to be another way.”

Silence filled the space between them until Cole said that Chancellor Roderick wanted to say something before he died. He mentioned a path up the mountain, hidden but traversable; even in the snow. Bronwynn nodded.

“Get them out, all of them,” she ordered before turning to her lover. “He wants me,” she said quietly. “He doesn’t care about anything else,” her eyes filled with tears as she said it; knowing she was about to hurt him.

“I will distract him,” she told the blond man; who was suddenly holding himself very still. Bronwynn took a slow deep breath to finish speaking.

“I can get the last trebuchet turned,” she went on, keeping her tears from falling by sheer dint of will. He was shaking his head in denial. “I _can_ stop him,” she finished.

Bronwynn and Cullen both saw the men that ran from the cathedral to prime the trebuchet; they saw as those in Bronwynn’s circle followed behind to keep them safe. Emerald green eyes never left glacier blue; she didn’t let the tears fall.

For them the world stopped turning, stopped breathing. She knew that he was dying; and she was dying with him. He knew he couldn’t stop her; that she had to do this thing.

“What about you?” he asked her, and then her tears fell. His voice didn’t crack, but there was a wealth of pain in the question. She didn’t attempt an answer, not even to shake her head. She had never lied to him, and she wouldn’t start now - nor would she make a promise she couldn’t keep.

Cullen jerked off his gauntlets and grabbed the woman he loved by her shoulders and pulled her to him. The kiss was both brutal and gentle at the same time. A desperate mix of hope and despair; of promise and regret that seemed to last an eternity.

She choked back a sob when he released her and took her face in his hands.

“I love you,” he said to her. “Perhaps you can surprise him,” he said with hope as he reluctantly let her go.

Bronwynn closed her tear filled eyes and took a deep shuddering breath. When she opened her eyes again they were deep jade with her despair; but they were dry. She called for Cole, asked him to help the Chancellor and turned to leave the building. She could feel Cullen’s gaze on her with each step, but she didn’t look back.

* * *

Bronwynn followed the path of destruction her people had made as they headed for the last trebuchet. Part of her wanted to run back inside the Chantry and hide. Keep her and Cullen safe, let the rest burn; but she kept moving forward. She knew she hadn’t told him she loved him and she prayed she’d have the chance to say it again. She couldn’t tell him goodbye when she wasn’t done.

Bronwynn reached the machine just as the loaders finished getting it turned. She and the others protected them while they primed the spring. She heard felt the dragon coming  and sent the others back, to get on the trail and to safety before it roared. They were gone by the time the fire exploded in front of her, sending her flying head over heels to land on her back; the wind knocked from her.

She made it to her feet as it landed and screeched at her, clearly hungry. Now she knew, it wasn’t an Archdemon, merely a corrupted dragon. Not much comfort under the circumstances; but she felt better knowing there was no Blight coming.

She heard the cracked, ruined voice shout enough and turned to face the speaker.

The Emissary.

“I am Corypheus,” it said and she frowned.

“Whatever you were, you’re a Darkspawn now,” she spat. It didn’t take a mage to see this creature was more powerful than any Darkspawn Emissary she had ever taken on; and she’d taken on Omega Emissaries.

“You have no idea what I am,” it responded, and she thought she heard it trying to infuse the statement with some sort of emotion; but it fell short. “I have walked the Golden City, and I will do so again.”

Bronwynn found herself laughing at the grandiose, bad play clichéd speech. When it pulled out an elvan orb she stopped laughing and narrowed her eyes at it.

“You are a thief; a mistake that will be corrected now,” it made a motion and she felt the mark on her hand light up with fire and pain. She almost crumpled from the shock of it; yet she knew this creature wanted more than her pain.

“You will kneel,” he commanded; and she let out a laugh once more.

“I kneel before no mere Darkspawn,” she spat; clenching her left hand into a fist as the pain intensified.

“I will remove the Anchor, you do not deserve it. Undoing my work with your bumbling about; like a babe in the wood,” it sneered; but she could see a desperation forming about what was left of it’s mouth.

“I don’t think so, Darkspawn,” she said with defiance as the pain suddenly left. It reached out and grabbed her by her left hand and lifted her from the ground. She felt the muscles in her arm creak in protest as her weight drug on them.

“I will be the God the world deserves. Pray that I succeed for I have seen the throne of the gods and found it empty; your maker is false,” he spat before throwing her against the still loaded trebuchet. She groaned as she hit the support and lifted her eyes in time to see the flare raise above the tree line. Cullen was safe; it was time.

“The Anchor is permanent, you have spoilt it with your fumbling. No matter, I will begin anew,” it said, turning to face her just as she kicked the release of the trebuchet and dove off the machine. She went from a roll onto her feet and teleported as far as she dared with her reserves so low. She fell into an open hole in the ground as the roar of the avalanche sounded behind her.

 

 


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

Cullen stood on the outskirts of the camp watching the path they had used to reach site they were at. They had reached the secluded area three days prior and everyone was on tenterhooks waiting to see if the Herald had survived.

Cullen had forced himself to eat these last three days to keep his strength up. He knew he was under scrutiny; knew he had to remain strong to show his faith but it was getting harder with each hour that passed and she was nowhere to been seen.

“Maker, please bring her back to me,” he whispered to the wind.

 

Another day passed, and Cullen had found a quiet and secluded space to pray. He could feel the strain weighing on him. The constant need to be on guard; to keep the others from knowing how badly the chance she could be gone hurt him.

His eyes wandered out across the open expanse toward the trail from Haven; blinking when he thought he saw a shadowy form moving haltingly through the snow.

“There! She is here!” The Nevarran’s voice echoed across the camp.

“Thank the Maker,” Cullen shouted as he ran towards the figure. It was indeed Bronwynn; and he managed to get to her before she fell face first into the snow.

 

Cullen kept the mage wrapped in several blankets, in front of a fire, between his legs while she gave her report on the happenings in Haven.

“This Darkspawn used a spell to attempt to remove the Mark from my hand, said that I had spoilt it and that’s when I dropped the mountain on Haven,” she finished, struggling not to yawn.

“A Darkspawn, but the dragon isn’t an Archdemon?” Leliana demanded for the third time. Bronwynn didn’t try to hide her yawn as she nodded her head in the affirmative again. “How can that be?” she asked aloud with indignation.

“I’m not sure, Sister Lei,” Bronwynn answered around another yawn. “I know the Darkspawn calls itself Corypheus and we could probably get one of the Tevinter mages to help figure out what that means,” she lay her head back, against Cullen’s stomach and closed her eyes; asleep as the last word left her mouth. The soldier moved carefully and picked her up in his arms to move her to a cot within a tent that had another fire inside. He was taking no chances on her health.

“Cullen,” she said sleepily; grasping his hand before he could pull away from her. He knelt on the  fur covered ground beside the cot, taking her still freezing hands in his.

“Yes, my love?”

“I love you,” she said, pulling his hands to her mouth to place a soft kiss on the knuckles. She was once more fast asleep before the sound faded. He lay his head on her chest, listening to her heart beat under his ear for a long moment.

“Thank you Andraste,” he said on a silent sob. “Thank You Maker, for bringing her home to me.”

 

* * *

 

“Without the Inquisition’s infrastructure we have nothing!” Josephine’s Antivan accent raised indecently loud brought Bronwynn fully out of the slumber she had been in that day. She groaned and began to sit up, to have Mother Giselle caution her to rest.

“They’ve been at it for hours, do you really think I’m going to sleep through it?” she asked the Revered Mother. Giselle sighed and shook her head.

“They have that luxury,” she observed; and Bronwynn could not refute the statement.

“Corypheus managed to do more harm than he thinks, I’m sure,” Bronwynn sighed as she watched the four of them separate in anger and frustration.

“It is hard to to accept,” Giselle stated.

“What is?”

“That our savior came back to us, making it appear as if we have a divine mandate; ordained to overcome all obstacles,” Bronwynn chuckled softly.

“No, Mother. It is rather easy to accept that,” Bronwynn countered.

“You think so?”

“Aye, what’s hard to swallow is that there is someone else out there who thinks they have the same divine mandate,” Bronwynn shook her head, blowing her auburn locks from her eyes when they fell into her face.

“Faith is sometimes hard to hold onto,” Giselle stated; to which Bronwynn nodded her agreement.

“No one will remember what I said about the Darkspawn; they will remember the dragon. The people will remember what they perceived and interpret it to suit their needs,” She looked out over the survivors of Haven. The despair they felt was so palpable it almost shimmered in the air.

“This wasn’t started by mages or Templars,” Bronwynn said to the Revered Mother, who turned surprised eyes on the Herald.

“What do you mean?” she asked the younger woman.

“Mother, it wasn’t that long ago I was in a Circle; and I was much better at figuring out what was going on that others believed.” She looked at the dark skinned Orlesian priestess.

“There were factions within the Circle; and there was dissent and dissatisfaction with the Templars. Yet at no point before the last Blight did it ever occur to any of the different Fraternities to actually rebel against the Chantry,” she sighed.

“Something larger moved behind the scenes and manipulated the Seekers, the Templars and the Mages. I would give sovereigns to scones that something was this Darkspawn, or someone like it,” she closed her green eyes, weary still from the flight through the blizzard. Yes her companions had made sure she was warm and could find food; it still took a lot out of her. Especially after the injuries she had taken in the fall.

“What can we do about it?” Giselle asked the mage with curiosity. How would this girl; who claimed she was not Andraste’s Chosen, deal with the current crisis at hand. What would she rely on to get herself through the troubled emotions surrounding her. Bronwynn sighed and shook her head; her own melancholy coming to the fore.

“We find strength in our faith, Mother,” Bronwynn answered. She stood and walked away from the Revered Mother.

When Giselle began to sing a moment later, Bronwynn turned to her in surprise. The hymn was her favorite and always brought peace to her troubled soul. Leliana added her sweet soprano voice to the second verse and Bronwynn felt a welling of hope filling her chest. This is what the Chantry should bring to the lost and frightened; yet failed to do.

When she heard Cullen’s tenor join the song, her heart began to sing as well. She was too overwhelmed to add her voice, however; as the survivors were all now either kneeling in front of her or saluting her with their blades.

“I’m glad you agree,” the Revered Mother said when the song ended and the camp was suddenly more lively and animated than before.

“A word,” Solas said quietly behind Bronwynn and led her to a lookout behind the camp.

“A wise woman,” he stated. Bronwynn gave a hum of agreement. “The orb that Corypheus used, it is elven,” he intoned darkly. “I don’t know how he came to have it; but when it gets out it will cause harm to the elves,” his concern seemed real.

“That could be a problem,” she agreed. “How do you know it’s elven?” she asked him with suspicion.

“Your description; I have seen it’s like in memories in the fade,” he answered. She nodded as she thought for a moment.

“I would like to say that the Elves wouldn’t suffer for this; but people - no, humans being humans it won’t matter that a Darkspawn killed the Divine by trying to physically enter the fade again,” she huffed out a breath full of anger.

“I hope, my friend, that you didn’t pull me here to tell me this just to make me cry,” she said, and the dark humor of it made him smile.

“No; I have a solution,” he said with a laugh.

 

The Inquisition’s forces moved north, away from the ruins of Haven. The way was rough; but not impossible. Still it took three weeks to reach the destination Solas wanted them to. Her first sight of the fortress stole her breath.

Built into and from the mountain it stood atop, a single bridge seeming to hang from the air connecting it to the larger plateau across from it. It seemed to be suspended upon the clouds; hanging in the sky.

She slapped the elf’s arm and snorted when he spoke a second later.

“I give you, Skyhold”he said dramatically; then he laughed as she batted him then shoved him ahead of her.

 

* * *

 

A week had passed since the Inquisition had arrived at Skyhold and Bronwynn had been kept busy with the surgeons and mage healers helping those who had suffered in the attack and the trip through the snow. The new week had just begun and Bronwynn rose from the cot she had fallen into the night before. She thought to herself she couldn’t wait until she and Cullen had a real bed again; mostly so she could actually sleep with him.

She suddenly realized the sun was in the wrong position on the wall, meaning that she could see the sunlight on the wall. Outside she could hear the bustling activity of the hold as the workers moved about making repairs and the soldiers and scouts came and went to secure the area. She could even hear Vivienne dressing down someone for failing to use the proper stance.

The Herald jumped from the cot and quickly opened the door to the chamber by the gate; her gaze immediately found Cullen’s blond head in the crowd.

He, Leliana, Josephine and Cassandra were huddled together, and seemed oblivious to the bustle around them. They all turned to look at her when she opened the door; then Cullen, Leliana and Josephine all faded away as Cassandra waved her over. Bronwynn gave the dark haired Nevarran princess a slit eyed glare.

“What is that about?” Bronwynn asked. In response, Cassandra waved to the people within the keep’s walls.

“More arrive every day,” she said, half in pride and half in worry. “Skyhold has become a pilgrimage, and if they can find us; so can Corypheus,” Bronwynn listened to her friend, knowing this had to be going somewhere that answered her question.

“We now know what led him to you,” the Holy Warrior continued.

“He thinks I am a rival for the Maker’s throne,” Bronwynn said. “He’s also insane,” she finished, causing Cassandra give one of her rare smiles.

“More that your actions have made you his rival; the good you have done,” Cassandra said.

Cassandra had led her mage friend from the lower courtyard up the stairs to the landing before the actual keep’s entrance. Leliana stood there with a decorative long sword lying across her hands.

“You have also proven you are a more than capable leader, my friend,” the Seeker said with a smile at the look of surprise on the mages pretty face. “The leader the Inquisition needs,” she spoke with the formality of a ritual as she waved to Leliana holding the sword. Bronwynn looked out over the courtyards as they filled with people. Bronwynn felt a warmth building inside her.

“I can’t believe you all agreed to this,” she said to the Seeker, who smiled warmly at her.

“You have already been leading us, this just makes it official,” she replied to the redhead. Bronwynn lifted the sword and raised it high to the cheers of the crowd below.

When Bronwynn, Leliana, Josephine and Cullen entered the keep she could see why so many had been speaking as if the job of repairing it was overwhelming. She turned to face her advisors and felt a sudden urge to giggle hysterically.

“We need to make sure we get as much information on these Venatori as possible,” Bronwynn jumped into the conversation. “That will give us a better idea what this Corypheus thinks he can gain,” she looked at Leliana and Josephine. “Alexius should be able and willing to help with those answers,” she said with a smile. The two women smiled in return.

“What about the Templars he’s managed to corrupt?” Cullen asked with consternation.

“Get me a lead to follow and I’ll follow it,” she answered with a shrug. “I have no idea who he could have leading them after Therinfal,” she admitted.

“We do know that he plans on having Celene assassinated. We can work that angle as well,” Leliana reminded them. “Perhaps that will also give us insight into this Darkspawn,” she suggested.

Varric came up and told the Herald he knew someone who could  help. Bronwynn laughed at the cagey way he said it when she was certain it was her cousin. She laughingly followed him to the battlements.

The hug Garrett gave her left her gasping for air; she teased him that he cracked ribs.

“When Varric told me you were the Herald of Andraste I almost joined the Inquisition right then,”he said with his patented charming grin. Bronwynn slapped him on his padded shoulder to show what she thought of that whopper.

“So, you killed Corypheus once?” she asked him, needing to get an idea of the power the creature had. He nodded. She then asked for details of the situation.

“So there were two other Wardens there, besides Beth?” Bronwynn asked. When he nodded she began to curse.

“Why, Emerald?” Varric asked her. She sighed and shook her head.

“It means he was more than likely telling me the truth,” she replied dejectedly. Varric turned white under his tan.

“So he can’t be killed?” Varric asked quietly and Bronwynn shook her head.

“He can die; we just need to figure out how he does what he does. Because being a Warden, Javick should have died when the Darkspawn transferred itself to him; so he’s not using the same thing the Archdemons do,” she told them. Varric saw something happening in the lower courtyard and smiled.

“Well, the guys I had researching the lyrium are finally here,” he said as he pointed to the group that had just entered. Bronwynn looked and let out a whoop when she saw the Wardens that were with them.

“You should send for Beth, Garrett,” Bronwynn said as she moved to the courtyard. “I could use her help with research,” she waved and moved quickly to meet the Wardens that had arrived; Nathaniel Howe at the front.

“Took you long enough!” she shouted at  the handsome rogue.

“You wanted us to die at Haven?” he shouted back with a laugh.

“I could have used the help of more Wardens,” she replied as she got close enough to be engulfed in a hug. “Two of us weren’t nearly enough,” she said to him. A Senior Warden like herself, he carried his duty close and sacred.

“Two?” Nathaniel said with curiosity. She nodded and pointed to Blackwall in the Upper Courtyard.

“Found Warden Constable Blackwall roaming the Hinterlands, decided we needed the extra sword,” she said lightly. Nathaniel had never met the Constable; but he knew of him.

“Is he hearing the Calling?” The archer asked and she nodded. “More than I; but he know’s it’s false. How many others are hearing it?” she asked with worry clear on her face.

“Everyone,” came the reply from a Dwarven Warden. “It’s a good thing Howe here was able to explain to us why it was false or most of us would have answered Clarel’s call to come to Adamant,” he told her. She bit her lower lip as she contemplated how many would have gone to Adamant and what Clarel could be calling them there for.

“Get with Commander Cullen, Warden Howe. The two of you work out how to best use the Wardens we have,” she ordered. The older man nodded and headed over to the Inquisition’s Commander. She met the dwarven researchers and took possession of the lyrium. What she was sensing from within the shielded box was not heartening.

The Inquisition’s people were making quick work of cleaning the fortress; but it was going to take time. Bronwynn helped where she could before her people began to insist she eat dinner and go to bed. She headed into the keep after grabbing a meat pie.

Inside the building she could see the cleanup that was already in progress and was impressed. She could see the people were inspired to make this place their home as much as she was.

“Lost, my love?” She heard Cullen’s tenor voice ask from behind her, she turned to him; and wondered at the sudden look of worry on his face.

“Actually, yes,” she admitted. He took her hand in his and led her to a door farthest away from the main doors. They went up a set of square spiral stairs into what had to be the largest room in the keep.

Her jaw dropped in awe when she saw the room. Done in blues and greens; drapes that framed glass windows and doors, plush rugs on the floor to keep bare feet from freezing and the bed large enough to sleep ten. Her books were already lining shelves in a corner of the room behind a large oak desk that sat near the fireplace.

Despite two walls being half glass, the room was quite warm since the sun streamed in during the day. Cullen caught his mage as she folded into a heap and started to cry.

The blond Commander lifted her and moved to a chair in front of the fireplace to hold her. He made no effort to stop her crying, simply caressed her back in soothing strokes while she did. He knew she must be feeling overwhelmed with the changes. She wasn’t used to this much attention.

When she had stopped crying for more than a few minutes he said her name softly.

“Yes, Vhenan?” she sniffed.

“Thank you,” he said, and she heard a smile in his voice.

“For what?” She asked him with suspicion as she looked up into his face.

“For winning me fifty crown,” he said with mock seriousness. His crooked grin shone forth when she frowned at him in confusion. “Dorian was sure that you would give an overblown speech about how a mage was going to stand for all of Thedas,” he told her with a laugh. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. He felt her body relax against his as she recognized him being humorous.

“Why would I give an overblown speech about anything?” she asked him and his response was to kiss her left temple.

“The reason I won the fifty crown; I know my mage hates pomposity,” she chuckled in response and sighed as he squeezed her reassuringly.  

“Thank you, Vhenan,” she said with a sigh.

“You managed to deal with the situation admirably,” he said to her with pride. “I know you can handle small groups, but I’m very proud of you for dealing with the whole situation with aplomb,” he told her. She blushed and whispered thank you once more before yawning widely enough to cause her jaw to creak.

“Well, that puts paid to my plans for the evening,” said with chagrin. Her eyes widened for a moment and she groaned in dismay.

“Oh, no, you are not getting away from me,” she said around another yawn. “I have been dreaming of making love with you for weeks!” she insisted, only to have him laugh heartily.

“My love,” he retorted as he lifted her to her feet. “We have the rest of our lives,” he kissed her gently before helping her remove her armor. He made short work of his own armor as to join her in their bed.

 

* * *

 

Bronwynn heard a familiar song being hummed. She cracked one eye open, sure she was dreaming since the person humming that song had to be in the Southron Hills of the Brecilian Forest. She sat up with a shout of joy when she saw the blond elf placing fluffy towels on a bench before the fireplace.

“Elizita!” she shouted as she leapt from the bed; waking her Commander with her enthusiasm. The elf girl returned the mage’s hug with one of her own and both began speaking at once. He maneuvered so his back was against the headboard and watched his love. He could see how much she cared for the elf, and made a mental note to get Leliana her favorite chocolates for sending for her people from the Southron Hills estate. Especially as he could see the servant loved Bronwynn in equal measure.

“M’lord Commander asked Milady Nightingale to send for us and Louden made sure everyone got here safe!” Elizita was saying to his mage. She turned emerald eyes bright with joy to him and leapt back onto the bed. He heard the elf shriek in embarrassment before she ran down the stairs and out  of the room.

“Why?” she asked him breathlessly after kissing him with abandon.

“Because I knew you were going to need people you trusted to help you in when here in Skyhold,” he answered simply. “Let the staff who know’s you make the day to day decisions,” he said. “That way you can focus on the things that you need to do when not in this room,” she sat back on her heels and gave him a confused look.

“Why?”

“Because in here, my love, you are mine.” The raw possessiveness of the statement sent pleasure rolling down her spine. “My love, my life, my Bronwynn, my wife,” he intoned; pulling her back into his arms.

 

* * *

 “I don’t give a damn!” The shouted statement could be heard across the courtyard. Bronwynn turned toward the sound as did everyone else. Gordon Blackwall was standing before Cullen Rutherford surrounded by a circle of Templars and Wardens. Cullen was the one who had shouted. Bronwynn shook her head and sighed as she joined the crowd surrounding the two fighters. It didn’t take much for her to get to the front of the line.

“Commander, this isn’t the best place to have this conversation,” Blackwall was attempting to be reasonable; and it was clear from Cullen’s expression they were past reasonable. The Warden next to her snickered.

“What’s happening?” she asked.

“Commander Cullen asked the Constable to assist with training of the new recruits,” she nodded to show she was listening.

“And?” she asked, knowing there was more. It was a Lissette, a Templar, who answered.

“The Constable made a disparaging remark about the Commander’s abilities,” she told the Inquisitor. It was clear that the Templar found this amusing; it was also clear the Warden did as well.

“Please tell me it wasn’t about his ability in bed,” she groaned. They both shook their heads.

“No, Milady. However, the Commander retaliated in kind,” the Warden went on. Bronwynn groaned, she had a feeling she knew where this was going.

“So the Constable reminded the Commander he’d already beaten him once?” she asked in dismay. Both fighters laughingly nodded. The redhead shook her head and turned her attention back to the two men. She heard the familiar creak of Cassandra’s armor coming up behind her. She turned to the slightly older woman and smiled ruefully.

“No, Seeker, I’m not going to interfere,” she said before the dark haired woman could demand it.

“Why not?”

“Cullen would never forgive me if I did,” she said quietly. Cassandra listened to the exchange between the two for a moment. Clearly they were beyond any semblance of civility at this point.

“Warden Constable, Commander!” Bronwynn called when both men began to spout vulgarities at one another.

“What!” they shouted at her in unison.

“If you’re going to bash one another, take fifteen minutes to get properly armored,” she ordered. “If not, quit bickering like raw recruits,” she said. She incensed them both, but they turned to one another and nodded.

“Fifteen minutes, right back here,” Blackwall said. Bronwynn threw up her arms and snorted in disgust. She followed Cullen to the gate where the Templar armory was being housed temporarily.

“You are being silly,” she said to him as she waved away the squire and helped him dress herself.

“Concern for your former lover?” he asked acerbically. She snorted.

“You have nothing to prove to me, you know that, right?” she asked him. That stopped his movements.

“I am not trying to prove anything to you,” he answered after a long moment.

“You have nothing to prove to him, either,” she said reasonably. He sighed and shook his head.

“That’s where you’re wrong, my love,” he replied. “I said some very stupid things the last time we fought,” he sighed and leaned against a desk in the room.

“So he told me,” she snorted with laughter.

“Well, if I don’t show him I can control my temper; he’ll think he still has the right to take you from me,” Cullen told her.

“I think you’re forgetting the most important part of that equation, vhenan,” she said sarcastically.

“What?”

“My decision,” she answered. “I love you, not him,” she reminded him. He shook his head.

“Yet he loves you still,” Cullen replied, moving to belt on his sword once more.

“Do you think breaking his face will make him stop?” she asked incredulously.

“No,” he admitted as he opened the door. “But it will show him I am able to keep you safe,” he finished as he left the room. Bronwynn groaned in frustration and followed him out and back to the courtyard. It was clear from the betting that was going on this was a fight that many were looking forward to seeing.

“Okay boys and girls! Here it is, Templar versus Warden!” Varric Tethras was shouting above the din. “If it were just any Templar or Warden, it wouldn’t be worth betting on!” he goads.

“Commander Cullen, former Knight-Commander of the Kirkwall Circle and Warden-Constable Blackwall, hero of Val Chevin!” there were cheers going around the courtyard causing Bronwynn to laugh at the spectacle it was becoming.

Blackwall and Cullen seemed oblivious to the fair like atmosphere, however; intent as they were on each other. She thought, briefly, about speaking to Blackwall, but decided against it. She could see from the set of his jaw that he was just as serious about this match as Cullen.

 Blackwall held his great sword across his body at the ready and Cullen drew his longsword in his right hand while raising his shield on his left arm. Bronwynn quietly placed a bet on Cullen when she saw his shield angle outward as he readied to deflect the first swing of Blackwall’s weapon.

Blackwall took two steps forward and swung the two handed weapon with a wide arc to his right with the point angled downward; towards his opponents legs. He thought the blond would leap back to avoid the blow; instead the Templar stepped over the weapon as it touched the ground and slammed his shield into the raven haired man’s chest. Bronwynn winced at the hollow clang; while Cassandra cheered her approval with the rest of the crowd.

Cullen pressed his advantage by swinging his gauntleted hand forward into the Warden’s face, landing a solid blow to the man’s nose. Blackwall’s helmet prevented the sword in his hand from cutting into him, but he felt as well as heard his nose break. He shook off the stars as they flashed in his eyes and used his left arm to push the smaller man back; attempting to trip him up with the sword that was still lowered behind him.

Instead of being forced off balance, Cullen hooked the lower half of his shield on the larger man’s arm and twisted, forcing him to the left and now they were a sword's length apart. Blackwall managed to get his great sword up into a block to keep Cullen’s blade from crashing against his chest; but he felt as if he’d been struck by a Qunari blade as the ex-Templar’s sword slid along his.

The Warden-Constable felt frozen where he knelt for a long moment; and when he was able to move again it was to feel the weight of the Commander’s sword along his neck.

“Yield, Warden,” the younger man said, without any inflection at all. The older man laughed lightly and did just that. Bronwynn laughed out loud at all the groans from those who had bet against the Commander of the Inquisition’s forces. Varric handed her the three hundred Sovereigns she had won and she bowed mockingly to those who had lost to her. She turned her back on the two fighters and ordered the mages she had been training back to work.

 

* * *

Her Inner Circle could be heard laughing around the campfire with the forward scouts as night fell in Crestwood. Bronwynn smiled as she listened to them as they spoke about different things. It was good to hear them getting along in spite of all the things that could have separated them.

“You sure do know how to throw a party, Scout Harding,” Bronwynn said to the auburn haired dwarf as the girl sat beside her.

“Well; you’re easy to please, Your Worship,” she said with a laugh. Bronwynn chuckled with her.

“You seemed to hesitate when I asked if you had any information about Wardens in the area, Harding; why?”

“I’ve been getting mixed reports, Inquisitor,” she said after a moment. “Some are saying the Wardens have all disappeared and others are saying they’re searching for a rogue Warden,” she shrugged as she spoke. Bronwynn nodded her understanding.

“Just,” she sighed. “If you see a Warden; ask them when they did the joining,” she said. “If it’s ten years or less; tell them to come to Skyhold; to talk to me or one of the others,” she herself shrugged. “It’s possible they don’t know that what they are sensing is fake,” she told the woman.  The girl nodded and patted her shoulder before heading to one of the tents to sleep.

The next day was just as dark and overcast as the night had been; the Rift’s in the area were playing havoc with the region’s weather. Sera could be heard cursing a blue streak whenever the party came across a group of undead, and Dorian managed to make it sound like the weather was the worst part of the trip.

When they ran into a pair of Wardens defending an elf from an undead attack she managed to find out that Clarel had sent them to find Warden Stroud; although they didn’t know exactly why they were to find him.

“Are you hearing the Calling?” she asked them. Both men looked uncomfortable to be discussing it in front of non-Wardens but nodded anyway. “How long ago did you do the Joining?” she asked them. “Please,” she insisted when they didn’t answer right away. “It’s important,” she told them.

“Six years, for me, Inquisitor; two for him,” the older one said. There was a slight question in his voice as he answered.

“Okay, then I need you to focus on what you feel from me,” she said. The two looked at one another but did as she asked. They knew she was a Warden. Their eyes widened when they realized she felt to them like they felt to each other.

“Now,” she went on. “Focus on the Calling,” she said. As they did she watched their faces. There was a relief on them when they realized what they were hearing was false. She nodded and smiled when they looked at her with relief.

“Look, head to Skyhold,” she said to them. “There are other Wardens there who can help you understand what’s going on.” There was a pleading note in her voice and the older one smiled at her with true relief.

“Milady, I was one of the first Wardens you and Stroud trained in Kirkwall; I’d rather not have to fight him,” he said. She sagged in relief when he agreed to head to Skyhold.

* * *

The ten of them reached the village of Crestwood and made short work of the undead attacking the gate. Vivienne, Dorian and Solas began helping the townsfolk with healing potions and poultices. Sera and Varric helped some of the townsfolk with bows and arrows while Cassandra, Blackwall and The Iron Bull helped repair fortifications. Bronwynn and Cole made their way to the Mayor’s house at the top of the hill.

She shook her head in frustration when the man argued with her about draining the lake. Cole and her spirit companion felt as if he were lying or hiding something about the lake; but Bronwynn didn’t have time to ponder the issue. They needed to get that Rift closed.

The bandits at Caer Bronach were easily routed and Bronwynn took advantage of the chaos to put her people in the fort. She’d send word to Alistair that it was open for inhabitance when she had gotten things a little more settled in the area. Bronwynn found herself getting angry when she found an intact wheel for the damn controls.

“I thought he said they were damaged by the Darkspawn,” Varric questioned after the fighters had opened up the floodgates for the dam.

“He did,” Cole answered.

“Varric, Cole, why don’t you two go talk to the Mayor; perhaps take Vivienne with you,” she suggested in a steely voice.

“Why me?” the First Enchanter asked with curiosity.

“Because you, my dear, encourage the truth,” Bronwynn replied and the dark skinned beauty smiled as she realized what Bronwynn wanted.

“Of course, darling, I’ll be happy to help find out what happened,” she replied. Bronwynn knew she wasn’t happy to be working with Cole, but she also knew better than to argue with Bronwynn over it.

 

Bronwynn leaned against one of the dam’s supports in laughter as Sera and Bull crowed about the dragon that flew over the stone structure; especially as they were the only two who were excited about the prospect of facing a dragon.

“Sure, you laugh now Inquisitor,” Dorian quipped in his cultured tones. “But what will we do when it bites your head off?” he demanded; which made her laugh harder.

“Well, at least the Tevinter is humorous,” Vivienne sniped as she and the two rogues walked up to them on the bridge.

“Oh, he definitely is, darling,” Bronwynn said as she brought her laughter under control. “What did you discover?” she asked instead of elaborating.

“There were Darkspawn here ten years ago,” Varric started.

“There were also refugees from Lothering and Ostagar,” Vivienne added.

“They were sick,” Cole said, and no one could miss the burning anger that was in his voice.

“Blight?” Blackwall asked. The three nodded dismally.

“What did he do?” Sera asked with suspicion and a building anger of her own.

“He moved them all into the caves under old Crestwood; or into the village of old Crestwood,” Vivienne said with utter blandness; and Bronwynn had a feeling she knew why.

“Then he flooded the village,” Varric said. Bronwynn felt her heart skip a beat.

“He says that there were Darkspawn coming from that direction as well. That it was the only way to save Crestwood Village and the people who weren’t sick,” Cole told them; and Bronwynn reached out her hand to take his.

“We will investigate, Cole,” she said softly. She could see so much anger in his eyes. “We have to close the Rift first; to stop others from being hurt,” she reminded him. It took him a moment but she watched as he took a deep breath and nodded to show he understood. Bronwynn asked Sera to head to Caer Bronach to tell the agents there to keep an eye on the Mayor.

The remains of the old Village of Crestwood were still dripping with water and the ground was slippery with silt and water plants. Ten years was a long time to be under water, but the area was amazingly well preserved despite that. Solas, Cole and Bronwynn were the only one’s who weren’t completely disturbed by the presence of the spirits that were wandering around the village.

When they found the cave entrance Bull used brute strength to open the door covering it; Sera had rejoined them by the time they managed to get torches lit with real fire and magelight. They were all careful as they made their way into the tunnel; the stench of rotting fish nearly choked them all.

The ramp that led deeper into the former mine stoked the Inquisitor’s ire. This was meant to make it easier for the refugees to find places to sleep and live; hidden away in the dark and dank. She knew that most were unable to make the cure for the Blight, she knew it was a death sentence for most of those who contracted the disease; but this blatant display angered her. No attempt was made to help the refugees. How many innocents died with the sick ones?

The sudden descent into an old Thaig startled all of them. Despite the stalagmites and stalactites that filled the halls; the place was in excellent condition. The demons surrounding the Rift were more aggressive than others but at this point she and her inner circle were quite efficient at destroying them and closing the Rift; although hearing Cole speak about how angry and confused the spirits were was a bit disconcerting for most of the party.

As the group exited the Thaig and then mine rear entrance they were astounded to find the clouds gone and the sun shining.

“Well, if we didn’t need to seal the Breach for the demons,” Solas said with understandable awe. “We do for the damage it is doing to the weather patterns.” Not even Vivienne could find an argument for that.

They were all weary by the time they made it to the cave where Hawke had said Stroud was waiting. Garrett gave his cousin a one armed hug before leading her into the back of the cave.

Bronwynn smiled at the older man when she turned to face him and his drawn sword; he laughed with relief and sheathed his weapon to pull her into a tight hug.

“Sister, I’m so glad you’re alright,” he murmured into her hair as he held her. She could feel him trembling with emotion.

“What has happened, Jean-Marc?” she asked him with concern.

“Clarel,” he sighed and shook his head and walked a few steps away. “You’ve heard the Calling?” he asked her, she nodded.

“It can’t be real; those of us who did the Joining in the last ten years wouldn’t be hearing it if it were,” she said. “We don’t have the same taint.”

“I had hoped that was the case; but Clarel,” he shook his head again. “She has allowed a Magister from Tevinter to convince her we have only one option,” he swallowed as she thought about what he was saying.

“I know I sent her a letter telling her what I was hearing; that it couldn’t be real because we younger Wardens were hearing it,” she insisted.

“She is convinced it’s real and the older Wardens; like me, are as well. They think they’re dying,” Bronwynn closed her eyes and held a breath as she realized what that meant.

“What is she doing?”

“The mages are performing a ritual to bind demons to themselves,” he said and ten voices cried out in denial.

“I wondered where he was going to get his demon army,” Bronwynn said softly.

“Who?”

“Corypheus,” Garrett answered for her.  

 

 


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Gang! I'm really sorry it has taken me so long to get this out. I have been having some health issues, and frankly this chapter decided to try and take off on it's own. I had to buckle down and get the characters back in line. Thanks for your patience with me.  
> Also, I'm NOT putting anything related to Trespasser in the story. As I understand it, it's not congruent with how I want my story to end.

**Chapter 38**

It was gratifying to know that so many of the Wardens had understood what the new potion for the Joining meant for the Wardens as a whole. Not so gratifying to know that so many of them heard the Calling and believed it to be real. The red haired mage tried to take comfort in the knowledge that there were over two hundred Wardens that had joined the Inquisition and were eager to help, but it wasn’t as much comfort as she hoped.

Stroud and Hawke had left for the Western Approach in Orlais; meanwhile Bronwynn had been informed of several strange happenings in Orlais that the nobles were demanding the Inquisition; meaning she, deal with.  She was saddle sore and weary and wanted nothing more than a hot bath and soft bed.

“I enjoy fighting beside you Bull,” Cassandra said suddenly, breaking the silence.

“I do too, Seeker,” the Benhassarath spy replied jovially.

“I will enjoy taking off my armor and sinking into a tub full of hot water and rose petals more, however,” the woman teased.

“Oh now that’s just cruel! Who has sex smelling like roses? A nice frangipani, maybe,” he retorted causing everyone to laugh. Bronwynn enjoyed hearing them interact, especially as they teased and tormented one another. She rarely had to intervene to keep the peace and it was good. Whenever they came across Inquisition outposts, their camaraderie never failed to raise morale.

“Speaking of baths, Inquisitor; when are we going back to Skyhold? My armor could use a good cleaning,” Vivienne asked in her haughtiest tones; mostly to annoy Serah, Bronwynn was sure.

“Haven’t you been paying attention Madam?” Serah quipped with her normal sarcasm. “Oh, wait, of course not, you don’t know how to tell direction,” she went on. “We’ll be at the pass to Skyhold in an hour, your stuck up ladyship,” she went on like that for several minutes; until Bronwynn turned and frowned at her. Sera didn’t care that Vivienne didn’t like her; but she hated having Bronwynn upset with her.

“Thank you darling,” Vivienne said after a moment of silence. Bronwynn just shook her head and kept moving. They were all getting rather irritable.

 

* * *

 

 

“How do you put up with it for weeks, my love?” Cullen asked her the following evening before they headed to the dining hall for dinner. She just laughed.

“Normally Sera keeps it toned down enough I don’t have to worry about it,” she answered as she undressed. He narrowed his blue eyes at her as she turned away from him to drop her clothes into a basket.

“Well Serah isn’t the one who instigated it this time,” he grumbled, making her laugh.

“Vivienne is looking for a fight, I think,” Bronwynn said as she sat down on the settee by the bed. She was now wearing only her bra and panty, both of which were nearly the same color as her peaches and cream skin. Her Commander kept frowning at her as she reached up and began to undo her braid.

“Bronwynn, my love,” he said. “We are supposed to be getting ready for dinner,” he reminded her. She dropped her hair and laid her arms across the back of the settee; thrusting her still full breasts out.

“Well; ready for something, at least,” she smiled wickedly at her Templar.

“We have important guests,” he said to her with severity. She just smiled sweetly and crooked a finger at him. He shook his head and stayed where he was.

“Oh no,” she said as she rose from the settee; her bare legs flashing warmly in the firelight. “I have decided that dinner is secondary right now,” she told him as she wrapped her lithe arms around his neck and kissed him. She twined her fingers through his hair and pressed her lips firmly against his, gently nipping at his closed lips.

When he opened his mouth to kiss her back, she stole his breath with the passion she infused in the kiss. He growled in response as his own slow burning passion exploded.

“Help me get this armor off,” he demanded as his hands twisted the leather bindings. She slapped them away and made short work of the chore, sucking on his tongue as she did so. He twisted his fingers into her hair and held her firmly until he felt the breastplate loosen. Once it was on the floor he tried to move to a chair so he could remove his boots, but she slid her hands under the band of his breeches and dropped to her knees as she pushed them down.

“Bron!” he half shouted half growled as he attempted to stop her. His breeches fell to his ankles; her right hand wrapped firmly around the shaft of his cock and her left hand flexed on his hip bone. He flexed his hands on her shoulders, his fingers gripping hard enough to leave imprints as he tried to push her back.

“Mine,” she said in her own growl when her green eyes met his blue. The possessiveness of the statement made him smile until her raspberry lips wrapped around the head of his dick. When her emerald eyes closed and she moaned in pleasure he fought hard to control his own reaction.

“Maker,” he groaned as she took her time tasting him. She dipped her head and took him deep into her mouth, using her tongue to trace the veins that lined his dick; she swallowed softly when she had him all the way in her mouth. She lightly scraped her teeth along his penis as she pulled her head back to the tip; sucking slightly on the mushroom tip.

She felt him shudder from the pleasure and smiled. She enjoyed pleasuring him, giving him the same treatment he gave her. When his cock jumped in her mouth she breathed in hard, the smell of his arousal increasing her own. She cried out softly when he forcefully pulled her away and stood her up.

“Let me get my clothes of, minx,” he complained; to which she gave a sultry laugh. He had kicked off his boots and breeches and started to reach for her when he  saw her hands as they caressed her breasts. His already cobalt blue eyes turned an even deeper shade and he shook his head with a deep growl. She slid the brassiere off her shoulders after untying the back. Even after all the times he’d spent on her breasts, the sight of them still made him salivate with desire. She made sure his eyes were following her hands, to watch them as they untied the thong to her panty. The cloth floated to the ground; unseen as it bared her auburn capped pussy.

Bronwynn took several slow steps backward, leading her lover to the bed. Before she could climb atop it; however, he was in front of her, on his knees. Her gasp of pleasure matched his from earlier when he used his tongue to flay her clit. He pushed her stomach to lay her on her back and used his shoulders to spread her legs wider.

Her supple fingers twisted in his blond locks as she raised her hips to give him better access to her pussy. He stroked one lip the the other with his tongue, tracing a familiar and exciting pattern. When he thrust two fingers into her passage she squealed and tightened on them. Cullen made a sound of encouragement as he twisted his fingers inside her and sucked her clit.

“Slow down, oh, slow down,” she begged him. He didn’t listen. When he felt the tremors that signaled the start of her orgasm he moved up her body, putting both her legs on his chest; her heels on his shoulders and thrust into her. She screamed her orgasm and it rang throughout the room. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes closed to keep from coming inside her right then.

Hands holding her hips, he readjusted his legs and sank deeper inside her. Her own hands reached above her head to twist into the quilt while her calves flexed and she dug her heels into his shoulders to raise herself higher to take him deeper.

Now he took his time. Slowly he withdrew; holding her legs tight to keep her from pulling them down to gain more leverage. He gave a low chuckle when she moaned his name in a pleading manner. He reversed the movement just as slowly; garnering another pleading moan from her.

The warrior counted each thrust. Long stroke out then long thrust in, again and again until she grabbed his arms holding her legs and pulled them apart. Wrapping her legs rightly around his waist; she pulled him off balance and twisted so she was on top. He rolled them so she was on the bottom once more, tangling his fingers into her silken hair and sealing her mouth with his. They were both sweating and panting as they moved as one to reach the cliff’s edge.

He came before she did, but he didn’t stop until she was begging. He collapsed onto the bed beside her, pulling her to his side as they panted and cooled off. Cullen grabbed the hand she had placed on his chest when she would have moved it; preventing her from using the spell she was about to use.

“If you’re not warming the water, don’t bother,” he said with a grin. She laughed and leaned up to kiss.

“Fine,” she groused as she rose from the bed. “I’ll warm the water instead of bringing food to us.”

 

* * *

 

Bronwynn woke with a start as Cullen’s night terror began. Her heart broke once more, knowing she could do no more than be there for him until he decided to speak of it.

“No, no more,” he moaned then started awake, looking around lost for a brief moment. “Bronwynn?” he asked when he felt her next to him.

“Aye, Vhenan,” she whispered sleepily.

“Did I wake you?” he asked her, his voice rough from the terror of the dream.

“Aye, but no matter,” she replied as she moved closer to snuggle next to him. When his arms wrapped tightly around her she sighed and went back to sleep.

Cullen lie awake pondering what he should do. He hadn’t told her how hard it was getting, doing without the lyrium. The pain was sometimes nearly unbearable; often it made him senseless. More and more often he was standing over his desk with the infusion kit open; staring at it with rage and longing.

Then there were the dreams. His mind’s way of torturing him for deeds past as well as imagined. Had she known the dreams were getting worse she would have insisted on making the dreamless sleeping draught for him; yet he hated the fact that he needed it. She claimed speaking of it would help him; but who could he talk to? He could let no one know of his weakness, he could not appear to be giving less to the Inquisition than he had to the Chantry.

Forget, he heard the spirit clearly and frowned as he looked around to see it. For tonight, forget it said again. He felt as if awakening from a hazy dream. Remember she loves you.

Cullen wasn’t sure what the spirit had done, but he knew it was helping. Then he smiled as he thought about the last thing it said. Remember she loves you. His mage would be leaving again in the morning; and he owed her for making them late to dinner that evening.

Cullen gently disentangled himself from her and moved quickly but quietly to the wardrobe. He kept an eye on her sleeping form while he retrieved the silk ties Iron Bull had gotten for him. Cullen was still unsure how he had managed to have that particular conversation without bursting into embarrassed flame; but was glad he had. Bull had given him several tips and ideas.

He carefully moved her so she was on her stomach then bound her hands above her head, leaving enough room for her to pull without hurting herself, yet be unable to untie the binding. He carefully lifted her hips, placing pillows under them. The other bindings he tied around her ankles and the posts at the foot of the bed. Long ties,they would still hamper her movement. Indeed, they were just long enough for him to position her knees where he wanted them.

Cullen was stiff and ready to take her right then, but that wasn’t the plan; yet. With her hips supported by the pillows and her knees under her hips, not only was her shapely ass in the air, her auburn covered pussy was exposed to his view. He moved so he was behind her and began to caress and massage her ass cheeks. When she began to sigh and stretch into his touch he added strokes along the outside of her pussy, along the lips. Her gasp of pleased surprise goaded him on to longer caresses.

“Cullen?” he heard her asking, but didn’t answer with words. Instead he pressed the small of her back, forcing her to lower it, which forced her to lift her hips higher and spread her legs for more stability. He knew when she felt the ties when she said Um with another question. His answer was to slip his tongue between her labia and flicking her clit, then tracing his tongue up her slit.

The Templar took his time tasting her,lapping up her juices as her body responded to his ministrations. She was rocking back against his mouth after a few moments, and within five she was saying his name in a pleading tone. At ten minutes he felt her body begin to tremble as she reached her climax; then he stopped licking her and went back to simply rubbing her ass.

He switched to caressing her whole back and legs while he waited for her to calm down. Although he didn’t let her completely relax. He did enjoy the taste of her; and told her so after his next taste.

Leaning over her from behind, letting her feel the heaviness of his erection against her soaked pussy; he reached under her to cup her full sensitive breasts, rolling her raspberry nipples gently. This was when she realized what the ties actually did. She couldn’t move far enough to forward to slide herself onto his dick; and he’d prevented her from rolling her hips with the pillows and the position of her knees.

“Please, Cullen,” she begged.

“Please what. my love?” he asked her. Before she could answer; however, he gently pinched both nipples and then slid one hand behind her and in between her legs. He opened her labia and caressed her clit slowly; preventing her from speaking. Just before she started to orgasm he stopped once more; this time leaving the bed. Her cry of frustration made him chuckle.  

Bronwynn turned her head to the right when she heard the door next to the bed open. Her handsome lover strode into the room and she growled when she saw the smile on his face. Her body was aching with the need for relief and he was smiling about it. She took a deep breath to call his name; and the action sent ripples of pleasure from her nipples to her clit as her nipples rubbed against the sheets. Instead of calling her name she cried out in surprised pleasure. Bronwynn heard Cullen chuckle once again as he rummaged in the room; and though it infuriated her it also made her hotter.

The mage attempted to stretch her arms to reach the silken knots that bound her hands to the headboard, but couldn’t get both her hands to one or the other. She tried bringing her hands closer to herself to untie them from her wrists, but couldn’t do that either. Although she could touch fingers, that was as close as she could get her hands.

Bronwynn kept losing her concentration as every movement reminded her body of her desire. Cullen had come back into the room to see her attempting to move more forward to release the tension on her arms; when she moaned as that caused a different pressure on her very sensitive clit. He closed his eyes and counted to twenty in dwarven and reminded himself of his plans for the night.

“C-cullen,” she cried out as he sat back on the bed.

“Yes, my love.”

“Wh-what are you going to do to me?” he loved that there was more anticipation in her voice than curiosity; and zero fear. To know she trusted him implicitly helped soothe the constant ache and worry in his mind.

“I am going to keep you up all night,” he said to her, whispering it in her ear, enjoying the feel of her delighted shiver.

“I love that you are so ready for me, Bron.” He slid his middle finger inside her still wet pussy, taking a deep breath when she clenched tightly on it. He slowly moved his finger deeper inside her, slowly enough she tried thrusting her hips back to take him deeper inside her; but he simply took his hand away.

Bronwynn groaned in frustration when he moved away from her again. She wanted more, but before she could say so there was a soft touch on her leg that distracted her. She couldn’t move her head enough to see what he was using to touch her and it made the sensation more erotic than she would have thought. It wasn’t long before she was writhing in pleasure once more, begging and pleading him to touch her, kiss her anything to relieve the pressure.

Cullen finally gave in to her pleading when her breath caught on a sob from the pleasure and pain of his torturous ministrations. He positioned himself behind her again only this time; instead of his fingers slipping inside her passage he thrust the head of his dick just inside her. His fingers flexed on her hips to pull her back against him; which stretched her torso out so that once more her nipples were rubbing against the linen sheets. His breathing quickly began to match hers as he fought to control his need to pound into her.

Bronwynn started coming the moment he hand entered her and each deliberately long thrust merely prolonged the pleasure. She was past the point of screaming out her pleasure; she could only gasp and sob with it.

“Maker, Bronwynn,” she heard him groan out before he shifted his grip and his balance; once more pushing the small of her back down to tilt her hips higher. Each thrust now was fully inside her; deeper than before and every stroke wrung out more pleasure from her body.

Cullen felt her pussy clench tightly enough on his dick to actually stop his movements. Her entire body stiffened and she screamed more loudly than he’d heard in a long while. He shouted in response as she wrung an orgasm from him as well.

The two were panting heavily, exhausted from the exertion but sated when they heard a crackling that didn’t sound as if it belonged. When they looked blearily around they saw what looked like a small person made of fire dancing around the center of the room.

“Bronwynn,” he said as he still gasped for breath. “Tell me you didn’t set one of your spirit friends on fire.” She huffed out a laugh that quickly turned to a whimper; her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm.

“No,” she answered between her own gasps. “It looks like a fire sprite,” she said. “Untie me,” she asked. He did so quickly and she called the small creature to her. It was just a small person made of fire, and it seemed to be quite jolly. Cullen had heard of them, of course; but he’d never seen one. She smiled at it then whispered to it for a moment. She turned a deeper red than her hair before sending the creature back to where it had come from.

“Why are you blushing?” he asked her as he pulled her back to him to hold her in his arms while they recovered.

“It came because I lost control of my magic,” she mumbled. He was startled for a short moment; then he began to laugh heartily. He hadn’t ever done that to her; make her lose control. When she tried to move away from him, calling him names he only laughed harder.

“Oh, no my love, I’m not finished with you yet,” he said before stealing her breath with his kiss; and although her mind twinged at the thought of another round, her body immediately responded to his touch.

True to his word, Cullen kept her up the rest of the night; they hadn’t fallen into an exhausted sleep until dawn had pinked the sky. When Elizita had come in just before dawn she had quickly made her way out of the room. When she had returned several hours later she had kept as quiet as possible to allow her Lord and Lady to sleep. She had even made sure to stop Sister Nightingale and Seeker Pentaghast from waking them.

Which meant that neither woke until noon which amused the entire keep. Especially when their Inquisitor came tearing out of their quarters shouting curses about how late it was; followed by their Commander laughing heartily at her antics.

“We can always leave tomorrow morning, Your Worship,” Cassandra said soothingly to the disgruntled mage; which actually did nothing to sooth her, especially as Cassandra was trying so desperately not to laugh while she said it.

Cullen caught up with his lover on the training field where she was grumbling as she started lining up mages for training. When he took her elbow and turned her toward him she reached out with her other hand to smack his armored shoulder and grumbled even more; although no one missed her smile as she did so.

“I promise, I’ll not keep you up as long tonight,” he said just loudly enough for those closest to hear him say before he kissed her. He walked away quickly; laughing even harder, when she shrieked into his mouth and pulled away with electricity dancing in her fingers.

“Argh!” he shouted with surprise; still laughing, when she hit him with a small jolt of lightning.

 

* * *

 “Inquisitor,” Bronwynn turned and smiled at the Qunari spy as she entered the Herald’s Rest. “Come meet the boys,” he ordered jovially. Bronwynn noted he always seemed to be happy; and she wondered what he was keeping hidden.

“Chargers,” she said with a small bow. There was a chorus of ‘your worship’ around the room as she sat and picked up the pint the barmaid put in front of her. He introduced them each, giving short back story for how he found them all.

“Never let it be said you can’t find good talent,” she said with a grin. He chuckled in response and they spent the next several hours getting to know one another. He pulled her aside as they broke up for the evening meal.

“I’ve gotten word from my superiors,” he said.

“About?”

“They want to form an alliance, with the Inquisition,” he said, and she could hear something in his voice. She moved them off the path and asked about it.

“I’m just used to them being ‘over there’” he said, and she let it go even though she didn’t fully believe him. “It’s a good thing, Bronwynn,” he said earnestly.

“I’ll take all the help I can get,” she said with a sardonic chuckle. He grinned at her and walked away. “Even if I don’t trust their intentions,” she said to herself after he was out of earshot. She went to the central tower inside the keep to speak with her spymaster.

“You aren’t concerned they’ll try to use this to their advantage?” Leliana asked, to which Bronwynn snorted in derision.

“Of course they will, isn’t that what all our so called allies are doing?” Bronwynn countered.

“Good, I was afraid you didn’t see that,” the bard said with satisfaction. Bronwynn just shook her head at the woman. “What is it you want us to do?” Leliana asked curiously.

“The information they have given us points to the Storm Coast, right?” Leliana nodded in the affirmative.

“Let us get agents out there to make sure we only have to deal with what they are telling us we do,” she said. “I’m quite certain it isn’t” she told the woman who again nodded, this time in agreement.

“I, too, am certain it isn’t,” she replied. “I’ll get Harding and her crew back out there right away,” Bronwynn nodded her thanks and took her leave.

 

* * *

 

“My contact should be here,” The Iron Bull was saying as an elven man came out of cover behind some trees. The dark haired man was smaller than most elves that Bronwynn had seen, but when he spoke she figured it was due to his being from Tevinter.

“He is,” the young man said with mischief in his voice. Bull grinned when he saw him.

“Gatt! I thought you were still in Seheron,” he exclaimed.

“I was, the Ben Hassrath decided I had finally calmed down enough to leave,” he turned to Bronwynn.

“Inquisitor, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Hissrad’s reports speak well of you,” Bronwynn could hear the doubt in the younger man’s voice but she let it go. She wasn’t about to defend herself to a viddathari any more than she defended herself to anyone else.

“Pleased to meet you as well, what are we looking at?” she asked as she pulled out a map of the Coast. He pointed to two locations on the map where he said there were Venatori encampments. Bronwynn narrowed her eyes as he completely ignored the marking where her Lead Scout had placed a third camp of Venatori. Granted, Harding had noted that it seemed mostly a landing area; but he still should have mentioned it.

When she looked up at The Iron Bull she saw his mouth had tightened slightly; he had noticed the glaring omission as well. Good, then he wouldn’t balk when she sent people out with the Chargers.

“I’ll let the Chargers know what they’ll be doing, boss,” he said to her; and it was a sign of how upset he was that she could hear the disgruntlement in his voice. Bronwynn nodded at him and moved to the rest of the party.

“Solas, Blackwall, Cole, Dorian, Sera; I’d like the five of you to head out with the Chargers,” she said and Solas nodded with superiority.

“You see it for the trap it is then, good” he said with satisfaction.

“This viddathari didn’t point out an obvious camp,” she said by way of agreement. She kept her voice low enough it didn’t carry over the sound of the rain as it hit the flora.

“ _Orders are to make him prove he’s still ours; make him give up the mercenaries. They think he’s gone Tal-Vashoth, but I know he hasn’t. He’ll do the right thing,_ ” Cole said suddenly.

“You know, dear, I hate it when he does that; but I happen to like the Chargers. Ill mannered though they are; they are quite efficient,” Vivienne’s voice wasn’t in it’s normal haughty tone. There was cultured anger there.

“I agree with Viv,” Sera said with her own biting tone. “The Chargers are ours,” and Vivienne nodded her agreement. Bronwynn gave a very evil smile as she nodded her own agreement.

“Keep them alive, and let’s show the Ben Hassrath they shouldn’t overestimate their power and influence, eh?” she asked, everyone in the party gave a low chuckle as they split up to do just that.

 

“Where are they going?” Gatt asked the Inquisitor, and no one could miss the suspicion in his voice. Bronwynn kept her own voice calm and distant, however. As if the answer was obvious and of no consequence.

“I don’t think we need eleven people to take out a small camp of Venatori, Gatt. I sent them with off to check out the beach to make sure there weren’t any areas where the Venatori may be landing,” She said as she checked her gear to be sure she had what she needed readily available. She looked up at him after a moment and smiled with malice.

“Shall we go kill some Venatori assholes?” she asked him. Had he been watching Iron Bull he would have been concerned about that look; instead he simply nodded and pulled his daggers.

The six of them made short work of the two groups of Venatori they ran into; and Bull proudly announced his Chargers had already taken care of the the other group. As they watched the Dreadnaught blow the Venatori ship out of the water; however, he noticed a group of Venatori coming from the encampment that Gatt hadn’t mentioned.

Bull was watching the elf carefully when he mentioned the group, and it was clear the young man didn’t have the same training to be a Keeper of Illusions that Bull did; his face gave away that it had been part of the plan all along.

“Well, let’s see what Vivienne, Solas and Dorian have prepared for the Vints,” Iron Bull said with no small amount of satisfaction as the three mages stepped out of cover. Gatt’s eyes widened when he saw them and the energies in their hands. He turned quickly to see that Bronwynn’s hands were also encased in energy.

“Oh, this is one of those times it’s good Cole is a spirit,” Bronwynn said to the Qunari with a laugh full of wicked mischief.

Suddenly there was water bursting from the ground to the left of the Vints, blocking them from breaking landward. Rocks appeared behind them with loud thunder as they rose from the ground; blocking them from retreating. They had no choice but to either keep moving forward and attack or try and swim the Waking Sea.

Solas threw up a barrier around the three of them when the Venatori mages threw a volley of fireballs at the group; and two of the swordsmen went down in a bloody mess when Sera hit one with an explosive arrow. Everyone on the hill with Bronwynn heard Cole’s disembodied voice shout now; and Bronwynn made a sweeping motion with her left hand.

“What in the abyss is happening?” She heard Gatt cry out as the sea swelled up into a large wave; dragging the Dreadnaught closer to shore as it did. The wave crashed over the Venatori mages and fighters that were left, silencing the screams of the men as it pulled them back out to sea with it as it retreated from the shore. Bull grunted with appreciation as the Dreadnaught was rocked onto a sandbar as the water retreated completely, leaving the area at a truly low tide.

“Oops,” Bronwynn said with chagrin. “Didn’t mean to use that much.”

Silence reigned for several long minutes.

“One by one they followed me, laughing, to the sea,” Cole quoted with awe in his voice, which sent the rest of the group into nervous laughter; except for Connie who simply smiled with satisfaction at the Ben Hassrath agent.

“Well, I think that takes care of the Venatori who are smuggling red lyrium, don’t you?” She said to the elf, who was still staring at her with horror.

“I’ll get the Chargers and the others,” Bull said as he moved away. “I’ll see if we can help get the Dreadnaught back in the water and off the sandbar,” he was muttering to Cassandra as she and the rest followed him. Bronwynn heard the horn sound and saw the other group heading toward the sound; but made no move to follow. She also felt Cole’s presence still, and she wondered at that for a moment.

“What are you?” the elf asked her; the fear in his voice evident.

“I am saarebas,” she said. He heard the menace once more in her voice, and this time realized it was directed at him.

“Don’t you want this alliance?” he asked her with curiosity.

“I do,” she answered him honestly. “But it’s going to be on _my_ terms,” she said with that same honesty.

“Wha-” he started to ask, but stopped. It was clear he was far from comfortable with the idea that someone other than his superiors knew more than he did.

“Look, I neither know nor care why you joined the Qun,” she said to him. He frowned at what he perceived as a change of subject. “But Hissrad hasn’t abandoned his beliefs.” His brown eyes widened with shock at how she was able to touch on his thoughts.

“Your superiors sent him out here to play Tal-Vashoth and are now suspicious that perhaps he’s gone native,” she still had that menacing smile on her face; there was still menace in her voice. "Because he is  _so_   _good_ at his job?" she hissed.

“They shouldn’t have abandoned him when he needed them,” she went on. "When he _asked_  for help, for  _re-educating_." She snarled, and though there was venom and anger, it was clearly caged and controlled. He opened his mouth to speak, but she raised her hand to forestall anything he could have said. “You didn’t mention the landing party that had already landed before we got here,” she said to him, anger making her green eyes flash. He gulped.

“You expected me to let Hissrad command my troops,” she went on.  "As if I; a lowly saarebas, poor human mage, would be unable to see the trap you laid before me." He didn’t even realize he was nodding his agreement.

“Well that was a mistake you’ll be sure to notify your superiors of, Gatt,” she said to him. “ _I am the Inquisitor_.”

She had not raised her voice, and although she did sound as if she would happily remove his testicles; she had made no violent motions towards him.

“The Ben Hassrath has valuable information on the Venatori that I can use,” she went on implacably. “We have information that the Ben Hassrath can use.” She waited while he swallowed and nodded his understanding.

“Then we can be allies; but allies doesn’t have to mean _friends_ ,” she said to him; now leaning down and forward so she was in his face. “Tell your superiors that they should pay more attention to what Hissrad tells them in his reports,” she whispered at him. She stood and turned half away from him before stopping and turning to look back at him over her shoulder; red hair whipping in the wind from the constant storm.

“We’re heading back to Skyhold, let us be your hosts while you wait on your superiors to answer,” she said with that same smile.

 


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay, I have to watch my health and this hopefully will make up for it.

#  **Chapter 39**

 

It turned out that the Qunari were far more afraid of a single mage than they were of the Venatori; they had quickly agreed to the terms for an alliance that the Inquisition's Council had demanded. Bronwynn had gone to great lengths to ensure the Iron Bull was unaware of just how far his people were willing to go to ensure his adherence to the Qun. She knew; even if his superiors in the priesthood didn’t, that he had not abandoned his beliefs.

“We Qunari need the discipline of the Qun; I learned this in Seheron,” he told her over drinks shortly after Gatt had left; seemingly with his tail between his legs. He had given her a strange look when she snorted her disagreement.

“I have seen the Tal Vashoth, they are animals.” he snarled in anger and she looked at him blandly.

“You have seen those who wish to _rebell_ against _all_ they were taught,” she countered. “I have known plenty of Vashoth who were _not_ animals,” she responded to his look of disbelief.

“ _Tal_ -” he started, only for her to interrupt.

“ _You_ have been _pretending_ to be _Tal Vashoth_ for how long?” she asked him with venom.

“Several years now,” he admitted.

“And yet no one would accuse you of being anything more than a mercenary,” she said to him. “The Qun is a part of you for as long as you choose to follow it; Hissrad.”

The Iron Bull had taken a long pull of his ale before looking into the empty tankard for another ten minutes while he thought about what she said.

“The Qun only works when we are not fighting ourselves,” he murmured.

“I may not have known you long, Bull; but I know you well enough to know you aren’t fighting yourself. Don’t let others convince you that you are,” she said to him before giving him a kiss on his cheek and a comforting pat on the shoulder. “The Qun tells you your place in the world, not the priests,” she said as she walked away.

* * *

Cullen’s blond head was buried into Bronwynn’s neck and shoulder as he gave a final thrust into her. They both groaned with pleasure as they found their release. Her body relaxed pleasantly as he shifted to his side and pulled her to him. They held each other in silence for several moments before Bronwynn began to giggle unexpectedly.

“My lovemaking is funny now?” the ex-Templar archly asked. Her giggle turned into a full blown laugh. This in turn caused her lover to begin kissing her to stop her laughing.

“Mmm,” she moaned into his mouth when he allowed her to breath again.

“What was so funny?” he asked.

“Dorian …” she started to answer when he interrupted.

“Yes, he is quite the funny man.”

“Mmph,” she snorted in response before continuing. “Dorian told me how that elf had attempted to get information about us from him.”

“Oh?” Cullen’s curiosity aroused now, he pulled back to look at her.

“Yes, and apparently the Ben Hassrath aren’t above forcing someone to do things they despise to get the job done,” she giggled again. “Dorian told the poor boy that he preferred his partners to actually _be_ interest _ing_ ,” She laughed right along with Cullen as he got it.

“Well, the poor boy was only doing what he was instructed to do,” Cullen said in defense of the Viddathari.

“Yes, too bad he also tried the same tactic on _you_ ,” she said with another round of giggling, to which Cullen groaned.

“I have no idea what made him think he was my type,” Cullen replied sullenly.

“It’s the hair,” his lover replied with an almost straight face. She rolled away and out of the bed as he lunged for her with outstretched hands.

“Vixen!” he growled on a laugh. He watched her emerald green eyes dance and felt something inside himself shift into a more relaxed state. That she could laugh and tease him meant she was okay; it meant that she wasn’t suffering for all the killing she had to do.

“Cullen?” she asked him, a small frown marring her joyful expression.

“I have been worried about you, my love,” he admitted. She nodded and crawled back into their over large bed.

“I wish I could make the worry end,” she admitted in return. “I know you would rather be with me to keep me safe,” she said and he sighed.

“Yes, there is that as well,” he told her. “But I worry about how you are dealing with having to kill all those who are more interested in fighting than working to fix the problems,” he went on. Her soft ‘oh’ told him she hadn’t thought of that.

“Does it not bother you?” he asked her with concern. She gave a softly bitter laugh and nodded.

“Aye, it bothers me,” she said quietly. “But I can dwell on it or I can deal with it,” she said. She could feel his confusion to that statement in his body as it shifted beside hers.

“I mean, if I spend time thinking about what could have been, how things could have been different, then I would freeze every time I had to face a new enemy.” He thought about what she said and murmured his agreement.

“If I deal with it as it happens, it still bothers me later - I do have nightmares about it; but it’s not as severe. These people _choose_ to oppose the authorities. If I were working for Alastair or for Celine it would be no different,” she raised her face to his, troubled eyes searching a concerned face.

“ _I_ choose to forgive them for their desire to fight and I forgive _myself_ for having to kill them,” she said. He sighed and pulled her closer to him.

“There are so many reasons I love you; and still I find more every day,” he whispered to her. “Just make sure you talk it out if it gets to be too much,” he said; and she could hear an ironic tone in his voice.

“It _has_ helped me,” he admitted to her and she smiled and slid herself down his body instead of responding. He moaned with pleasure when she wrapped her lips around his already stiffening dick.

* * *

Three weeks later the team woke to bright sun and scorching heat on the edge of the Western Approach. Everyone could hear Varric and Dorian both loudly complaining. Cassandra wondered aloud if they were competing to see who could be heard by the wildlife first which stopped their complaining rather nicely and had the rest of the team laughing at their expense. Bronwynn smiled when she saw Dorian and Varric wink at one another; the two of them could be counted on to keep spirits up when in the field.

Harding’s red hair could be seen clearly against the yellow sandstone formations. Bronwynn frowned in response to the dwarf’s serious expression. She was normally happy to see them.

“It’s bad, Inquisitor,” the lead scout said without preamble. “Between the wildlife and the heat we haven’t been able to get very far. There’s Venatori and Red Templars everywhere,” she continued with some disgruntlement. We’re not sure what they’re looking for, and one of my men got too close to a poisonous hot spring and gave a slightly delirious report of a High Dragon in the area. So,” she said on with a bright smile. “Good luck!”

“I like you better when you don’t have to deal with Venatori and Templars,” Bronwynn replied with sarcasm. The dwarf laughed with everyone else before adding to her report.

“We found one of the Venatori scouts and … persuaded him to tell us his orders; they’re over there if you want them,” she waved towards a group of tables and headed back to her men.

“I guess we have our marching orders then Inquisitor?” Iron Bull asked and Bronwynn just shook her head with a laugh.

“Truly? I think she really is in charge and we all just pretend I am,” Bronwynn said loudly enough to get the woman to turn back and smile with a blush before bowing extravagantly.

“This says they’re looking for ruins, magical items - but it’s not clear what they expect to find,” Cassandra said as she read the report.

“Coryphenus is looking for a lot of magical contraptions,” Sera commented.

“She’s right,” Dorian agreed. “What could he possibly want with them?” the Tevinter mage asked. Bronwynn snorted and rolled her eyes before answering.

“He was using the orb to open the Fade, Dorian. What do you _think_ he wants them for?” Solas snapped before Bronwynn could answer.

“Now boys, please don’t make me put you on opposite sides of the Approach,” Bronwynn said in a sing song voice that only barely covered her exasperation with the elven apostate. Ever since the Storm Coast operation he had been finding ways to needle both Iron Bull and Dorian. He seemed to have a problem with Bull who followed the Qun and Dorian who was Tevinter. He wasn’t even attempting to provoke Vivienne as much as he had before.

Blessed silence reigned for the next hour as they reached the old Ancient Ritual Tower. Hawke and Stroud were visible against the sandstone gate.

‘ _There is blood magic here,_ ’ the spirit of Compassion said with sadness. ‘ _Someone is stealing lives._ ’ Bronwynn sighed internally. this didn’t bode well for her Order.

“This keep used to be used for rituals, sister,” Stroud said somberly. “I fear the worst,” he admitted. She simply nodded to show she heard him.

“There is blood on the air,” Cole said in a soft voice that seemed to float and hang within the group; causing everyone to shiver.

“Kid,” Varric said with an attempt at lightness that failed miserably. “When you say things like that you sound like a demon.” Bronwynn shook her head at Cole before he could speak.

“No, you aren’t a Demon, Cole,” she said softly and vehemently. “Despite your past actions,” for once Vivienne didn’t argue the point.

The twelve of them made their way across the bridge and into the broken keep. Bronwynn’s eyes flashed when she saw five mages standing docilely by demons while three others trapped another of their brethren between them. Before any of them could land a blow she surrounded him in a shield to protect him.

It was the Tevinter mage on a raised dias who responded to the interruption.

“Ah, the Inquisitor and thief!” He shouted with a laugh. Bronwynn merely narrowed her eyes and ignored him. She and her spirit companions quickly assessed what damage was done. Yes, all the mages who had performed the blood magic ritual were bound; but not to the Tevinter mage. Bronwynn heard him give his name as Erimond and spoke to him - her voice slightly ethereal as she was in the process of casting a spell.

“Your master is a fool to think I’d allow him his demon army, Erimond,” she said. He cried out in pain and fear when he felt the bonds he had forged to his master Corypheus break; freeing the enslaved mages. No one there could miss the looks of horror and sickness that fell over their faces; even though the formerly bound demons quickly turned to attack them.

The Inquisition mages wasted no time in feeling sorry for the men and women who had fallen for the magister’s words. All four of them simply went to work to destroy the demons; quickly followed by the rest of the group.

Blackwall saw Erimond attempting to flee the battle and quickly moved to stop him. Before the blood mage could raise a hand Gordon Blackwall struck him on the temple with the pommel of his sword to lay him out.

With several warriors in the group the demons were quickly defeated and the fight was over almost as soon as it had begun. Bronwynn made quick work of checking on her companions before turning to the Warden mages who were now all huddled together and trying to find their confidence. Bronwynn took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself; Compassion even attempting to help.

“Fasta vass! Fasta kaffas!” she began to shout, her face turning more red with each word she shouted. She started in Tevene; using words Dorian had never heard before; when she switched to Orlesian. “Fils de selopo, connards!” Even Stroud was impressed.

When she started interchanging Dwarven and Elven curse words Garrett stepped to her and wrapped his arms around her chest. She was shaking with rage and tears were streaming down her face with her obvious despair. When Varric, Dorian and Sera also came to embrace her she began to calm down. None of them spoke, they simply let her feel their presence.

The Warden mages clearly knew what they had done, that they felt horror at what they had allowed to happen to them. Yet Bronwynn wanted nothing more than smite them all for it. Desperation was no reason to have committed murder - this was not what the Order stood for.

“I know you are angry, Inquisitor,” Solas said as he moved closer to her as well. He kept his voice low to keep the mages from hearing him. She turned burning green eyes to him, the intensity of her anger gave him pause, but he continued. “They can still be of use,” he told her. He did not miss the slight narrowing of her eyes so hastily added.

“We need all the allies we can get, Inquisitor. Even those who have been corrupted can be of use,” and had he been able to read minds at that time he would have truly been frightened of his friend.

“How,” she said as she turned to the Warden mages. “Could you even begin to think this would be a good idea?” they each shrank from the bite in her words.

“The Calling…” the oldest of them began, yet when fiery emerald eyes locked onto him he faltered. He knew who she was. They all knew who she was. The Warden who had found a way to cure the blight; Warden Amell.

“Go on,” she said softly.

“We have to ensure there are no more Old Gods!” another shouted, his voice trembling with fear and shame. It was the shame on their faces that finally broke through the haze of her rage. She lowered her red head and sighed with sadness.

“It is inconceivable that any Warden that did the Joining less than ten years past would feel the Calling,” Bronwynn said as she raised her eyes to look at them again. “Hell, for that matter what are the odds that _every_ Warden in Orlais, but _no where else_ would be hearing the Calling?”

“You have been a Warden for how long, brother?” she asked him.

“Thirty years,” he said and Bronwynn’s left hand came up to her chest in a fist as the pain in his voice was heard. She knew there was nothing she could say that validate that sacrifice. “You can’t cure me, Warden,” he spat and she shook her head as if to deny it.

“Brother, I can’t begin to thank you for what you have given,” she said instead. “Yet, still, you should have known what this … couldn't be possible for _all_ of us to be hearing it and that this ...“ she turned to the unconscious Tevinter Magister with a look of repulsion. “ _Person_ ,” the word was clearly forced from her lips. “Offered tainted power.” She looked back at the mages.

“We Wardens are given full sanction to do so much when the killing of Darkspawn is involved,” she shuddered as she thought about the senseless killing that had happened. “Yet never do we _kill our own_!” Here the mages all flinched.

“How were we to know it was false?” the oldest demanded in a tormented wail. His eyes had turned to the heap of bodies along the wall, and tears were filling his eyes.

“You knew that _all_ the Wardens were hearing it,” she said simply. When each of them closed their own eyes in a deeper shame she shook her head.

“Solas is correct, even though I despise the idea,” she said with a rawness that belied the ache of her heart. “You can be useful,” the eight of them turned to her in confusion.

“Normally I wouldn’t allow you to remain as you are,” she said. “I can abide neither blood magic nor blood mages,” she said. “Yet even I must bow to the needs of the many in this case,” she shook her head and forced herself to calm down.

“You need to tell Warden Stroud and The Champion everything you know,” she said. “Then you will go to Skyhold and Warden Howe.” She turned and walked away, still shaking with her rage.

* * *

By the time Bronwynn and her Inner Circle had returned to Skyhold; Hawke and Stroud had already brought the mages to the keep and given them to Nathaniel to deal with. She met with her council nearly left to find them and take their magic despite needing them.

Erimond was spewing forth his master's plans as if he thought it wouldn't mater at all; and Bronwynn feared deep in her heart that he may be correct for it appeared that Clarel was going to perform the ritual he had been testing without him.

****************************************************************************

“Milady, you’re going to turn into a prune if you don’t get out of the tub soon,” The elven maid Elizita said with a laugh as she stood next to said tub with towels in her arms. Bronwynn opened her own eyes and smiled at the loyal maid. Cullen had made the right decision to bring the staff from her estate in Ferelden. Elizita was a terror for anyone who tried to get into her room when she needed privacy and she managed to keep Bronwynn’s room from becoming a complete disaster when the mage was in the midst of dealing with correspondence or research.

Not that she had spent a lot of time doing research over the last few months. Between sealing the rifts, dealing with the Templars and Mages, taking on the nobles of Orlais and now she knew Clarel was going to be doing something stupid.

“Milady, that smile won’t make you not prune up,” the maid said with mock harshness. Bronwynn laughed and rose from the cooling water and let the maid wrap her in an overlarge warmed towel. She moved to the fire and let Elizita dry out her hair before beginning to brush it.

They heard the door from the tower open and the familiar ring of Cullen’s booted step on the stone stair.

“Elizita,” Cullen said as he reached the top of the stairs. “I’ll take over,” he said softly.

“Aye, Milord,” she said with a small curtsey before leaving the room. Cullen had taken the brush and begun the long even strokes that would allow her hair to dry the quickest. Bronwynn sighed and allowed herself to relax as he brushed her hair in silence.

“What is it?” she asked when he stopped, turning to look at him.

“We leave in the morning,” he said somberly. “The Wardens that are with us sent a bird that they and the trebuchets are a day away from the Keep,” he began to remove his armor.

“We will stop her,” she said with a confidence she didn’t really feel. He didn’t answer her as he stepped away.

She watched as her love removed his armor. As each piece came off her eyes hungrily devoured his form. Fourteen years and she still couldn’t stop looking at him; couldn’t believe how lucky she was that he loved her.

She rose when he sat on the bed to remove his boots and moved to help. The towel she had wrapped around her slipped open with her movements and she smiled when she heard her lover’s deep breath.

Cullen allowed her to help him remove his boots before wrapping his hands around her hips then sliding his sword calloused fingers up her waist; dislodging the towel completely. He pulled her back and down so she was sitting on his lap, straddling his thighs. She sighed and ground her ass against the hardness of him under his breeches.

Cullen made no sound as he traced her breasts and torso with his hands, his mouth moving softly along her shoulders and neck. He took his time, seeming to need to re-memorize each inch of her skin.

His hands moved down her sides then across her stomach. As they met he moved them up her torso, revelling in her reaction to his touch. He gently cupped her breasts; the bottom curve of them filling his palms perfectly. His teeth closed gently on her skin at the juncture of her right shoulder and neck at the same time his thumbs and forefingers rolled her stiff nipples between them.

Her moan of pleasure was accompanied by the heating of her vagina. He could feel her heat through his breeches and spread his legs to open her up further. Her arms lifted and reached behind her, fingers tangling in his hair as he gently sucked and licked the sensitive area of her neck while at the same time tracing the hand of his right arm down her sternum, over the slight roundness of her stomach to tangle it into the hair of her pussy.

Bronwynn gave a long low moan when his index and middle fingers pressed against her clit, both relieving some of the pressure from his touch and adding to it. His left hand moved to her right breast, his left arm pinning her to his chest with the move. She held her breath for a brief moment before beginning to make small grunting moans in time to the movements of his fingers on her clit. Her hips rocked her pussy into his hand and she tried to hurry his movements with her motions; but he would not give up his control.

He took his time pleasuring her, even though it killed him not to be inside her with each moan she made. He made the next half hour feel like an eternity to his mage as he kept her on the knife edge of release. She screamed in pain and frustration when he slid her off his lap and onto the bed. He captured her mouth with his own, stealing the sound and her breath with it. She lay there panting and whimpering, her fingers fisting into the quilt on the bed as her eyes tracked his movements.

Cullen’s blue eyes never left her cream body as he hurriedly removed his breeches and small clothes. His dick sprang free and his mouth dried when she ran her tongue over her lips at the sight. He grasped her hands in his as she reached for his member when he returned to the bed. She tried to twist her hands out of his, but he would not let her go.

“Cullen,” she moaned pleadingly, his response was to pin her hands to her side as he settled his torso between her slightly spread thighs. Her hips rose off the bed as his tongue probed between the lips of her wet pussy. She rocked against his mouth to the rhythm he set with his ministrations. Once again he kept her right on the edge of release. Hearing her whimpers of pleasure goading him to hold her there for as long as he could.

“Please!” she begged with a whimper. “Please vhenan! It hurts!” he relented; releasing her hands to surge up her body and cover her mouth with his own, sharing the taste of her juices with her as he slammed deep into her snug passage.

Her knees had lifted and bent with his movement; her hips tilting and rising to meet his thrust. His hands fisted into her hair as she clenched her muscles on him with her orgasm. Her scream filled his mouth while her body went rigid with pleasure. He held on to her while she came undone; and the second her body began to soften he began to move inside her.

The next sound she made was a gasp and moan, which he swallowed as he had her scream. His hands were buried in her hair, his elbows on either side of her shoulders. Her hands grasped his waist as he moved inside her; she panted with every thrust.

Cullen made a sound for the first time in over an hour as he growled, feeling her body fighting to find it’s pleasure again and failing. He pulled out of her and took his mouth from hers.

“No!” she cried, bereft until he gripped her hips and rolled her to her stomach; lifting her ass up and spreading her legs. He spread his knees apart to open her wider before once again thrusting deeply into her. He could feel her body pulsing as with each stroke the head of his dick slammed against the sensitive spot inside her channel.

For almost two decades he had been making love to this woman and it still amazed him how well she took him. His own breath was coming fast and hard now as he increased the rate of his thrusts; pounding hard into her. This time when she came he followed her into the waves.


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40**

**Three weeks later**

Morning dawned cloudy and windy in the Western Approach. The sky boiling with dark gray clouds that Bronwynn knew did not carry rain. The Warden and Inquisition forces were arrayed outside of Adamant Fortress, the trebuchets at the ready. Templars and Mages interspersed within the ranks of the Wardens to assist with demon slaying. Her mouth was dry as she looked over the formidable stone walls of the never before taken bastion of defense against the Darkspawn. Of Dwarven make, those walls were only going to fall with serious work. 

Bronwynn wore her heavy Warden Mage armor as she stood at the ready near the middle of the field. Knowing that she was going to have to be ready to follow the ram into the gate; the weakest point of the Fortress, once it fell. She could hear Cullen’s voice as he called out last minute instructions. She herself had given a short speech to her Warden brethren; reminding them that they weren’t here to kill Wardens - only to stop the ritual and save as many Wardens as they could. 

There was a sudden silence over the field; not even the creaking of the trebuchets being cranked could be heard. It seemed as if the desert was holding it’s breath. 

_ WHOOSH _ ! 

_ WHOOSH _ !  _ WHOOSH _ !  _ WHOOSH _ ! 

The sound of the trebuchets springing forward as they released their now fiery bundles over the walls of the ancient Dwarven fortress. Cullen shouted and waved his sword high and forward and the Inquisition’s foot soldiers surged forward as one giant mass. Archers filled the sky with arrows in an effort to keep the Warden forces off the walls to allow the ladders up.

The mages had been instructed to use their spells to keep the forces from the walls as well, and to try not to kill anyone if they could avoid it. They all knew there would be deaths; the Warden mages were going to fight and everyone there felt the heaviness of the futility of this. 

“Mages! On the gate!” she heard Cullen’s voice over the sounds of battle and was amazed that he had that kind of volume. She, like the other mages, turned to the gate where the ram was almost through and tossed a spell at the wood; between the ram and the different spells the gate burst in. 

The first wave of Inquisition and Warden soldiers surged through. 

“They’re inside, fall back!” could be heard repeated throughout the inner courtyard. Bronwynn and her group followed the initial rush, cleaning up those that had fallen in behind the first group. 

“Inquisitor!” She heard her Commander call from behind her as she readied herself for the forward push. She turned to face him. His eyes betrayed his worry for her safety. His fisted hands betrayed his need to protect her. His words; however, made it clear he trusted her to make it through. “Warden Stroud and Hawke are with the soldiers inside!” She nodded to show she heard him.

“We’ll hold an opening for you through the fighting, Inquisitor,” he went on. 

“Stay safe, Commander. That’s an order!” Bronwynn replied, earning a small grin from her lover. They both turned to the sound of screaming from the walls.

“Get those blasted demons off the walls, Inquisitor! Our men can’t hold out against them,” he ordered.

“Send up the Templars, Commander. They can take out the demons before I get there,” she countermanded before stepping forward and kissing him hard on the mouth. She turned and shouted for her circle to follow her and the ten of them rushed forward. Cullen shook his head and said a small prayer that his love would make it without too much harm; then turned to the battle once again.

The path they had to take through the fortress was convoluted due to the damage the building had taken from both age as well as the trebuchets. Demons would appear out of nowhere to attack them, in some cases almost overwhelming the small group. Yet they fought on. 

Bronwynn could hear a man calling for his fellow Wardens to stop, to think, what they were doing was wrong. She turned a corner and watched as several mages attempted to kill Warden warriors. Bronwynn didn’t have time to find out if they were bound to Corypheus or not; she simply attacked the mages and the demons they had bound to themselves. Tears swam in her eyes as she turned to see a thunder filled faced Blackwall cut down the last of the mages. Their eyes met briefly and they nodded to one another. A silent acknowledgement of shared pain.

“Stay back!” One of the Warden warriors said wearily and Bronwynn turned back to the assembled group, allowing her sorrow to show.

“Brothers, sisters - I’m not here to kill my fellow Wardens,” she said. “I just want to stop this madness; stop Clarel from destroying us!” 

“We don’t want to fight our own,” one of them said. 

“Commander Rutherford of the Inquisition has secured safe passage back through the fortress,” Bronwynn told them and there were many weary nods of thanks as the Inquisitor and her team turned to the next battle. Stroud caught up with her to thank her for giving them a chance. She looked at her friend with sorrow.

“I told you,” she said wearily. He closed his eyes briefly and nodded.

“You did, I wish we could have found a way to stop this,” he agreed.

“Me too,” the mage answered just as they reached the landing at the top of another set of stairs to again be attacked by demons. 

The Inquisitor was finding herself flagging; even as she drew more energy from the battle to her. She could feel the taint of the blood magic that was used to summon these demons and found herself abandoning the power, unable to use it herself for any reason. 

By the time the group came upon Hawke and the Inquisition soldiers defending even more Warden warriors against Warden mages she was almost on her last legs. 

“Cousin!” Hawke shouted as he caught her before she fell off the battlements. “Take a minute to breath, Bronwynn,” Hawke ordered as he turned to defend her from the Pride demon that was bearing down on them. Bronwynn panted and leaned against the crenellation; cursing herself for being unable to help. 

Dorian and Solas combined their magic with the strikes of the Champion and The Iron Bull to take the Pride demon out before it could begin to strike out at the exhausted mage. 

Although they could hear the battle still raging beyond them, silence reigned in this one small corner for a brief moment. Bronwynn wasn’t the only one taking the time to catch her breath.

“I never thought I’d agree with Fenris,” Hawke said to Bronwynn who laughed bitterly. 

“How is the lyrium wolf doing anyway?” she asked.

“He and Merrill are expecting,” he answered with a note of awe. 

“Truly?” she said with her own awe. “I’d have thought he’d have left her by now,” she said. 

“She gave up the mirror and the blood magic to fix it,” Hawke told her. Her eyes widened and she started laughing. 

“Oh, that had to really confuse the poor man,” she said through her laughter. Hawke smiled in response. 

“Actually, I think the broody elf was more confused as to how she got pregnant,” Varric quipped a second later, which made her laugh even harder. 

“Thank you, both of you,” she said as she wound down; feeling much better for the interlude. “I needed to laugh,” she admitted. 

“Anytime cousin,” Hawke said with a small laconic bow. 

“Keep these bastards off my men, Garrett,” she said as she stood. A deep breath and they were off again.

The way was clearer now that the walls had been cleared of demons. More Templars had made it over the walls; as well as mages and the demons were quickly being banished back to the fade. Warden warriors were feeling more and more heartened as the Inquisition forces simply swept by them, stopping only to take out any demons that were harassing them.

Bronwynn, Solas, Vivienne and Dorian burst through the gate to the ruined main hall of the fortress; followed by Iron Bull, Serah, Cole and Varric. They fanned out behind their Inquisitor while Cassandra and Blackwall moved to flank her protectively. Hawke and Stroud made their way to the front followed by the Inquisition forces and the Wardens who had come with them. 

Bronwynn saw her three mages slip back to the forces behind them but paid no attention to what they were doing, eyes riveted on the scene in front of her.

“Clarel! Stop this madness!” she shouted, finding her own volume over the sounds of battle around them.

“We have to stop the blights!” Clarel said. “It is our duty!” the bald mage woman turned to the Wardens in the courtyard and tried to rally the men and women there to ignore the Inquisitor.

“Wardens!” Bronwynn interrupted. “You  _ know _ this isn’t right! Not all of us should be hearing the Calling at the same time!” she pleaded with them to hear her through their fear. 

“Brothers and Sisters! I wouldn’t stand against Clarel if I thought this was the right thing to do!” Stroud shouted as well. 

“Wardens, this is  _ not _ what we stand for!” Blackwall said right behind him. The Wardens were now looking confused and even more frightened. 

“Clarel, this ritual is meant to bind you to Corypheus,” Bronwynn shouted in desperation. That seemed to give the Warden Commander pause, when another man stepped forward. He was younger than Erimond was, but clearly as wicked. 

“She will say anything to stop you, Clarel,” the man hissed in her ear. 

“Maybe we should stop - make sure …” Clarel hesitated. 

“It is now or never, Clarel” the man said. Clarel put her hand to her forehead then sighed.

“Bring it through!” she shouted. Bronwynn snarled and threw a fireball into the opening of the fade. 

“No!” she shouted. “I will not watch you debase yourself further!” 

Bronwynn felt a spell falling over the mages who were already bound to Corypheus, but knew there were too many for the spell to work as it had on the smaller group a month earlier.

“My Master knew you would attempt to stop us!” the man said in his Tevinter accent and banged his staff on the stone of the fortress. There was a sudden roar and darkening of the sky as the corrupted dragon landed atop a tower. 

Pandemonium ensued as the bound mages began attacking with their demons. Bronwynn shouted for her people to go after Clarel and the Tevinter mage.

“Clarel needs our help!” Cole was shouting, and Bronwynn wondered how he could want to help her after all she had done. “She’s hurting!” he said, almost as if in answer to her thought. 

“Let’s get them,” Bull replied with gleeful anger as they wound their way up the fortress even higher. Bronwynn thought to herself why the Dwarves would build anything so high in between short bouts of fighting demons along the way.

“You’ve destroyed the Wardens” Clarel was shouting to the Tevinter mage as she hit him with an ice spell. He threw his own ice at her, it broke against her shield. She hit him with fire and he fell to the stone floor. She moved in front of him and used a mind blast to toss him more towards the center of the fallen bridge they were on.

“I did nothing!” he replied between gasps of pain. “Except dangle a little bit of power before you,” he cackled at her look of dawning horror. “You couldn’t wait to grab it,” she hit him once again with a mind blast; causing him to scream in pain. 

“I would never willingly serve the Blight!” she spat, but even Bronwynn could hear the despair in her voice as she realized that was exactly what she had done. Turned her Wardens to servants of the Blight. Her deep gray eyes rose to meet Bronwynn’s green eyes and Bronwynn felt her face twist into a matching grimace of despair. 

“I should have listened to you, little sister,” the older mage said. She had raised her staff when the dragon broke over the tower and grabbed her with it’s mouth. Bronwynn didn’t watch the dragon, she knew her friend was going to die. She turned instead to the magister on the bridge and  snuffed the life from him. Clarel may have made the choice; but he had helped her Order to their fall.

The dragon landed on the bridge with a shuddering stomp, shaking the bald Warden mage like a dog worrying a bone before dropping her at it’s feet.

“In War, Victory.” she gasped as it began to step over her, head down as it reached for the Inquisitor. “In Peace, Vigilance.” Bronwynn and her team took deep breaths, readying themselves for a fight.

“In Death,” Clarel cast a massive ice spell at the belly of the dragon “Sacrifice” she died as the dragon was thrown off balance and slid along the bridge. The Inquisition team dove to the side to avoid being drug by the beast as it went over the edge.  

They scrambled to reach solid footing as the ancient structure crumbled beneath them, stopping when they stopped feeling the stones twisting beneath their feet.

Bronwynn didn’t have time to scream when she found herself falling forever. 

* * *

* * *

* * *

Cullen watched the dragon as it fell, heart in his throat. Too far away to do more than pray he turned back to the battle at hand, which had become mostly clean up at this point. 

He was proud of his army. Mages, Templars and Inquisition alike fought hard against the horde of demons the bound mages had summoned. 

It pained him to kill the mages that were bound to the Darkspawn monster; but he knew it was better than what awaited them under that same monsters rule.

There was a flash of green light suddenly, and Cullen turned towards the  source just as the dragon took wing again. 

“Maker, Bronwynn, what did you do?” he asked as he watched the rift that had just opened close.

* * *

“Oomph” Bronwynn grunted as she hit the ground.  _ Well shit _ she thought to herself.

“No! No no no no no!” Cole could be heard moaning from somewhere behind her. “This is the fade,” he was saying. Solas was trying to comfort him to no avail. “This isn’t right, I made myself forget but I know this isn’t right. I don’t belong here,” he was becoming hysterical. 

“Cole,” Bronwynn said softly as she stepped next to him. He turned terrified blue eyes to her and she let him into her thoughts, her feelings. 

“It’s going to be okay, Cole,” she said. He could feel she meant it. Her spirit companions were still with her and were unafraid. She wasn’t going to let anything happen to them. This calmed him down. 

“How are we in the fade?” Hawke asked with some trepidation. 

“The Inquisitor opened up a rift,” Stroud answered.

“It was that or die,” she said with a bite of anger.

“Hawke, you promised,” Varric said. 

“What did you promise, Champion?” Vivienne asked, there was a note of awe in her voice, and she was looking around as if this were a holiday trip.

“Never to make him go to the fade again,” Hawke answered.

“Well, this can’t be a good part of the fade,” Dorian said. “Look at the decor,” he shuddered exaggeratedly. 

“Normally the fade is shaped by the mind of the dreamer,” Solas said with his own brand of amazement. “Look, there’s the Black City, almost close enough to touch,” his voice seemed to echo Vivienne’s with it’s awe. 

The others made their own comments, Sera mostly cursing and Bull basically adding Qunari curses to hers. Blackwall kept mostly quiet where Cassandra seemed to be attempting to find her way through her faith to acceptance. 

“Let’s not wait around, folks,” Bronwynn said with a heavy sigh. “I can’t imagine this will be a quiet place for long,” There were general sounds of agreement and off the twelve went. 

The way forward was fairly obvious, although Bronwynn kept her thoughts trained on finding the other rift opening. She could hear Solas and Vivienne in conversation about the merits of being there physically where Dorian seemed to have joined Varric in keeping Cole calm. Sera and Bull were sticking close to Blackwall and Cassandra; and they were right behind the Inquisitor. 

Bronwynn turned to see Garrett and Stroud walking slightly apart from the group and she felt her friend Knowledge moving beside her. 

_ You will face a Nightmare _ she said to the mage.  _ It wants you very much _ . Bronwynn wanted to laugh, but didn’t. She was in it’s realm; and there was a long way to go before she faced it. 

“ _ Who _ is  _ that _ ?” Varric asked suddenly and they all turned to see a woman in Chantry garb standing before them.

“Divine Justinia?” Bronwynn whispered in shock. She didn’t need the spirits with her to know it had to be a spirit that had taken on her likeness. She thought from their reaction it was either a spirit of hope or faith. Either rare enough and for it to be here; Bronwynn had to squash the finger of fear that started to rise within her. She would give the creature holding this part of the fade no more power.

“It, can’t be? Can it?” Cassandra said with both hope and grief in her voice. 

“You have survived in the fade,” the Divine said, her heavy Orlesian accent marking the words. “Why could I not have?”

“You could answer the question with a yes or no instead of another question,” Hawke demanded and Bronwynn shook her head and waved her hand to silence everyone.

“It matters not, in the end. Why are you here, now?” Bronwynn asked her. 

“You do not remember what happened at the Conclave?” Justinia asked, although it was really a statement.

“No, I don’t” Bronwynn admitted. 

“The demon that controls this part of the fade took the memory from you,” she told the assembled fighters. “You will need to reclaim those memories in order to defeat the nightmare.” Bronwynn sighed heavily and looked to where a group of wraiths were either patrolling or playing. One could never be sure with wraiths.

The fight was over quickly, but Bronwynn found herself bent over in pain as the memories flooded.

“So, he was attempting to use her as a blood sacrifice to enter the fade,” Bronwynn said after a few moments. She felt anger stirring from Solas; although she wasn’t sure what would have caused it. Once again she noticed a curious double aura upon him. 

“The nightmare demon knows you are here, now. You must hurry,” the Divine said as she disappeared from their view. Confirming that she was indeed a spirit with the action. 

“What is it Hawke?” Stroud asked a suddenly very silent Champion. 

“Those were Warden Mages holding the Divine,” both Bronwynn and Hawke said at the same time. Bronwynn shook her head and sighed.

“I can’t say I’m happy about that,” Bronwynn admitted. 

“I presume they were in thrall to him, as were the others” Stroud replied to them. Bronwynn and Garrett both snorted in derision.

“It matters not, Jean-Marc,” Bronwynn replied. “The fact is they have to willingly perform the blood ritual and they know what they are doing,” she waved to the open area around them. 

“This is what comes of blood magic,” she said. “It feeds the negative spirits that populate the fade,” she shook her head and sighed again.

“There are people who have no magic who enter the fade through dreams and  _ they  _ end up being tormented by those demons the blood mages feed,” she closed her eyes and visibly refocused her mind on the exit. 

“Let’s get going,” she said. “I don’t want to keep this Nightmare waiting,” the quip caused everyone to chuckle; albeit nervously.

* * *

* * *

Despite the dragon being gone and most of the mages left dead or exhausted there were still many demons in the main hall and the Inquisition Templars and mages were still fighting hard. Cullen himself was moving through the fortress, being sure to find any hidden mages and demons. 

The soldiers with him were nervous in the cramped confines, clearly not accustomed to fighting anything inside walls. This was where being an ex-Templar was an advantage. He was able make his shortened motions far more powerful. 

He met Knight-Captain Rylen who confirmed the other half of the keep was clear. The two groups moved back towards the main hall and the bulk of the fighting. 

* * *

 

“As many as we have to, I guess!” Hawke shouted as he used his great sword to cleave one of the despair demons in half to disperse it. Stroud used his shield to block the incoming icebeam of another before he cut it down as well. 

Dorian and Solas wrapped two others in fire while Vivienne and Bronwynn each closed with the last one using their spirit swords. As the last one fell the barrier also fell, opening the way forward. 

Bronwynn heard everyone in the group talking about the little fear demons that were attacking them yet never answered when they asked what she was seeing. Let them think it was simply giant spiders; it wouldn’t help them to know the truth.

The spirit of the Divine had finally revealed itself and now lead them forward to the Nightmare demon. 

“Tell Leliana,” it said as it flew towards the giant creature blocking the way to the open rift. “I’m sorry. I failed you, too.” Then it attacked the creature, moving it so they only had to fight the Terror demon. 

“Everyone,” Bronwynn said quickly. “Allow me to shield you,” she demanded. 

“To what end?” Vivienne asked. 

“If it can’t feel our fear; it can’t feed from it,” she reminded the Circle mage. The other mages all nodded, but shielded themselves. Bronwynn laughed as they then helped her shield the non mages. 

It seemed to take hours to end the Terror demon as it kept calling in smaller demons to interrupt them, to distract them. As it finally went down, however Bronwynn practically threw the others before her and up the stairs to the rift. 

Hawke and Stroud were standing beside her when the Nightmare came back into view. 

Bronwynn drew on the last of her energy, pulling her own fear into her. 

“Go!” She ordered the two men. 

“We can’t let you kill yourself!” Garrett shouted in denial. 

“You are still needed!” Stroud shouted at the same time. She gave them a feral smile, letting all her fear show on her face.

“He can’t defeat what he can’t see, GO!” she shouted, shoving them towards the stairs and throwing a storm of fire into the great beast’s face. It screamed and thrashed; catching Stroud by shear luck. He drew his sword and started hacking at the creature.

“Go!” he ordered. “That’s an order, Warden!” he said. Bronwynn cursed but followed Hawke up the stairs and through the rift. 

She turned in time to see the creature rip Stroud in two before turning to the rift. Bronwynn wasted no time in using the mark to slam the rift closed. She could hear the nightmare screaming as it was banished from that area of the fade.


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41**

Hawke turned to the Inquisitor as the last demon dispersed. He could see she was pale and there were tears in her eyes.

“Stroud?” he asked as the silence began to stretch. He watched her take a deep breath and step up onto the raised area in the center of the ruined hall.

“Dead, giving his life to save the world; even though it isn’t from a blight,” there were Wardens who visibly flinched at the censure in her tone. Her pretty face was twisted into bitter anger.

“My friend, giving his life so you idiot mages would be freed from Corypheus,” she spat at the mages who had performed the ritual.

“I am ashamed, for the first time, to call myself a Warden,” she said. No one saw her shaking, although they did see the tears she shed.

“We were deceived,” one of the Warden warriors admitted. She shook her head in disgust.

“No, the mages chose to use this ritual; knowing it was blood magic.” Her emerald gaze swept across the remaining Warden mages; those that had followed Clarel’s orders. “The mages are susceptible to the Venatori mages so you will all go to Skyhold, and there we will figure out how best to use you.”

“I will head to Weishaupt,” Hawke said to his cousin as they began a slow walk through the broken fortress. “Make sure they know what has happened,” Bronwynn sighed and shook her head.

“I fear, Cousin, that Corypheus will have them in his clutches as well,” she admitted.

“I will keep you informed,” he told her before hugging her tightly.

Bronwynn watched him leave, knowing his heart was as heavy as hers. He felt the same responsibilities she did and it showed with his every action. She hoped his friends joined him quickly as she worried he would become overwhelmed.

“Inquisitor!” She turned at the sound of her title called in desperate relief. Cullen was walking hurriedly toward her, hands fisted tightly in an effort to keep from running and frightening everyone. Bronwynn stepped into his arms and pressed herself as close to him as she could with his armor on.

“I’m safe,” she whispered . He simply hugged her more tightly to him.

“We will discuss it later,” he replied with a deep seated growl. Bronwynn kicked out to her left when she heard Iron Bull snort in laughter. She smiled when the Qunari spy yelped and started hopping.

“We’ll meet you at Skyhold, Commander,” Bronwynn said as she stepped out of her lover’s embrace. Cullen nodded at her with narrowed eyes as he let her go. She turned and hurried through the destroyed gate. She needed to collect herself before she spoke with him about the ordeal.

* * *

 

Night fell quickly in the desert; where the desert’s predators during the day seemed to only make noise when they attacked the nighttime animals filled the air with an oddly comforting song. Bronwynn sat before the fire pit, contemplating the day. She had volunteered for the first watch with Iron Bull although she expected none of them would sleep very well so soon after their trip through the fade.

She herself knew she wasn’t going to be sleeping at all. She felt Bull pass through one of her wards as he came towards camp from his rounds. She smoothed out the wrinkle his passing caused and added a log to the fire for warmth. She heard rustling from her left and made room for the elf girl who was about to exit her tent; she also busied herself making several pots of coffee; the only drink any of them could agree on.

“For someone who likes to play pranks the way you do, Sera; you sure make a lot of noise,” Bronwynn said just loudly enough for the elf to hear her. Sara just smiled sleepily.

“Oy,” she mumbled as Bronwynn handed her a cup a few minutes later. “Are you afraid of spiders?” the blond asked, gaining a chuckle from the mage.

“No,” Bronwynn answered. She could feel her body tensing up as she knew where this was going.

“So you didn’t see spiders either?” Sara asked, and she sounded almost relieved. “Would have been nice to only see spiders,” the archer grumbled.

“I agree, little cousin,” Bronwynn huffed in reply. “Spiders would have been a nice change.”

“What  _ did _ you see, Inquisitor?” Sara asked, almost as if she were afraid to know the answer.

“Myself,” Bronwynn answered softly.

Sara surprised the mage by slipping her right arm around her waist and hugging her. There was a wealth of feeling in the gesture. Bronwynn’s throat closed up as she fought tears.

“It’s amazing what we’re afraid of, innit?” Sera asked softly. Bronwynn could only nod as the tightness in her throat kept her from speaking. “I saw you, too,” Sara whispered. “but you were possessed and saying the most horrible things” the raw fear in the elf girl’s voice touched on the mage’s own fear and she snaked her left arm around the smaller woman’s waist to hug her in return. The two women cried silently while holding one another.

“You know, Sera,” Dorian said suddenly, startling both women as he sat on the other side of the rogue. “Our Inquisitor would die before she gave in to any demon.”   
“Doesn’t help,” Sara informed him haughtily through her tears.

“No,” Dorian agreed as he wrapped his arms around the two women to hold them as they cried. ”It never does.”

“Wha!” Bronwynn exclaimed after five minutes had passed and she found herself being lifted by the waist.

“There’s no room for me on the log,” Iron Bull groused as he pulled the red haired mage onto his lap. She looked around the fire pit and could see the whole team gathered as close as they could get. She gave a small chuckle when she realized that even Vivienne was huddled near Cassandra.

“We may not have the same fears, Inquisitor,” Cassandra said as the redhead mage caught her eye. “But we are all afraid of  _ something _ .” Everyone nodded their agreement.

“Yes, dear. We  _ all _ have our fears,” no one could miss the sadness in the Orlesian raised mage. “Yet we,  _ all _ of us -  _ even you Sara _ \- have mastered those fears so that they do not control us.” The dark skinned mage looked at everyone after she said this, being sure to meet all their eyes. There was unmistakable pride on her face, in her eyes and her body language.

“I am honored to know so many who can face the worst a fear demon has to throw at them,” she looked at Bronwynn as she finished speaking. “And use it to  _ weaken _ the demon instead of feeding it.”

“Kicked it’s arse we did,” Sara said in response, pride ringing in her own voice. Her answer was a round of laughter, that wasn’t on the verge of hysterics. Silence fell naturally around the fire while the team took the chance to reflect.

“Yes,” Bronwynn said after a while with sadness. “But we lost a lot of good people,” she said softly.

“Too many,” Sara agreed. “Usually the bad thing happens and good people show up; Wardens are the wrong way around. They’re the good thing that means something bad is going to happen,” Bronwynn smiled when she saw the look of consternation of Madam De Fer’s face. The woman often underestimated the elf simply because she wasn’t as refined as the people she normally associated with. Of course, Sara often underestimated Vivienne because of that refinement.

“They over reacted,” Solas spat. “Action is not inherently better than inaction.” Blackwall narrowed his brown eyes at the apostate elf.

“You are not a Warden,  _ you _ do not know the sacrifices we make,” the older man snarled.

“To summon demons -” Bronwynn interrupted before he could complete the thought.

“The action was wrong, Solas; On that we can agree. Yet without the intimate knowledge that being a Warden gives; without that insight - you can’t begin to understand their fear,” she said. The elf frowned as she spoke.

“But to bind the spirits in such a way,” he said, only to stop speaking when she bowed her head.

“Was more than stupid,” she agreed. “Especially when they could readily see the changes in the ones who had already performed the ritual and still never questioned the ritual, the magister or Clarel. The  _ action _ was wrong, Solas; not their reasoning,” she looked the mage in the eye, almost daring him to argue the point.

“What would you have had them do, Chuckles?” Varric said when the tension was thick enough to choke them all. Solas blinked and turned to face the rogue with surprise on his face.

“Indeed, dear Solas, what would your solution have been?” Vivienne purred. “Especially since you’re such an expert.” The disdain she felt for the apostate elf dripped from every word.

Bronwynn wondered if Sera would comment and was surprised when she didn’t before Solas answered.

“Why didn’t they just ask for help?” he asked in exasperation, to which Bronwynn and Blackwall laughed.

“That would require giving up secrets, Solas,” Bronwynn said bitterly. “Like most of the Orders in the world, we Wardens love our mysterious ways.”

“Didn’t you find the answer to the Blight before you were a Warden?” Cassandra asked. The sun was beginning to light the sky, making it a lighter blue even though the orb itself hadn’t risen above the horizon. Bronwynn could see the exhaustion in her friends, yet she knew they wouldn’t sleep until they were at least another day away from their fear.

“Yes, but that was more out of persistence than anything else,” she answered. “Anders and I had a chance to study the blight in people a year before the Blight. I had contacts that were able to get books for me that were considered taboo or impossible,” she looked up at the quickly brightening sky.

“Let us go home,” she said wearily.

* * *

 

     Bronwynn slipped into Cullen’s office; a stack of letters in her hand. She leaned against the wall by the door to listen as he gave orders to his Lieutenants. They each saluted her as they left the office; she returned each with a smile. She turned worried green eyes to her weary lover as he slumped into a chair close to his desk.

“Bad day?” she asked as she moved to him. He pulled her down so she was sitting on his lap. He lay his head upon her breast when she wrapped her right arm around his shoulders.

“Tiring, more like,” he replied. “You didn’t sleep so well last night,” he said with a gentle squeeze around her waist.

“I’d apologize, except I’m far too grateful to have slept at all,” she admitted. “I wasn’t expecting the dreams to be quite so persistent.” He gave a small chuckle at the consternation in her voice.

“If anyone could understand, my love; it would be me,” he said soothingly.

She held up her left hand, which held several letters.

“Your sister has taken to writing me,” she said to him as a change of subject.

“What?” he asked as he reached for the letters, which she held out of his reach by holding them away from her body.

“Mia is concerned that her younger brother has seemingly forgotten how to write since he became the Commander of the Inquisition,” she started laughing and attempting to wriggle off his lap when he started tickling her to get the letters within reach.

“I don’t have time to write letters,” he said with a triumphant ‘ha!’ as he wrested the letters from her, dumping her on the stone floor of his office. His laughter joined hers as she landed with a squeal. The two began laughing harder when all three doors into Cullen’s office opened at once and three of Leliana’s agents appeared with swords drawn.

“Out!” He barked between bouts of laughter, almost doubled over due to the looks of astonishment on their faces. They were all used to their Commander being stoic and serious; to both see and hear the fastidious man laughing the way he was sent them into shock.

They quickly left, however when Bronwynn slashed a burst of wind at them.

“You dropped me,” the redhead accused with a smile and hint of laughter after a moment of collecting herself. She sighed to herself and her stomach tumbled when he gave her his conceited half grin in response.

“Shall I kiss it and make it better?” he asked with waggled brows. She rolled her eyes as she stood and shook her head.

“I actually don’t have the time,” she answered sadly.

“You came to tell me to write to Mia?” he asked her with a disappointed smile.

“No, I came to ask if you still know how to write,” she replied. He rolled his eyes and put the letters on his desk to read later. “Seriously, she’s worried about you,” Bronwynn said; wrapping her arms around her Templar’s neck to hug him.

“How busy are you?” he asked her suddenly. She shrugged before answering.

“I have to help the Wardens figure out who to put in charge of the troops and determine what we’re going to do about the mages,” she said. “I was only stopping by to encourage you to write your sister; the Senior Wardens asked me to meet with them. Why?” she asked.

“Can you clear your schedule for a few weeks?” he asked her.

“The only thing I have to be concerned with is the Grand Ball,” she said. “That isn’t for another month, however.”

“We’ll be back well before we need to leave for the Ball,” he murmured. He caught her by surprise when he leaned in and kissed her quite thoroughly before asking her once again if he could kiss it and make it better.

“Fasta!” she groaned before stepping away from him. “You are too tempting, Vhenan!” she laughingly said before turning and stomping out the same door she had entered. His laughter followed her over the ramparts, and she could see many of their people smiling in response to the sound. The Inquisition may have been formed to heal the sky and find out who had killed the Divine; but she could see how people were coming together to surmount so many other problems Thedas faced.

* * *

 

She made her way to the stables where Blackwall had made his rooms. It was a good thing that Gordon hadn’t been known that well to many or that alone would have given him away. She smiled to herself as she thought about the differences between her old friend and her new friend. She could see why Cullen thought the Warden may be in love with her; although she had caught him staring after Josephine more than once. The other Blackwall would never have slept in the stables, oh he would behave as if he wasn’t above it - but given a choice he’d have found a way to sleep in the castle at the very least. He preferred beds.

This Blackwall was much more likeable; even if he took being a Warden far too seriously and believed far too much in the hype and mystery. He inspired many of the Wardens to look more deeply at what they were doing, and why. His romanticised view of the Order had seemed naive at first; yet the more they spoke she realized it was what he needed. Now Blackwall was showing others what they should be, could be again.

She stepped into the overlarge structure which was more barn like than stable like and shivered from the shift in temperature. she hadn’t even realized she was cold. She looked over the gathered Wardens, most of whom were older than herself and had been Wardens far longer. She felt an ache in her chest as she looked over careworn and ragged features. Men and women who had already seen the worst of life, who had chosen to make a sacrifice of their lives. She knew many had done so out of desperation; not wanting to die at the end of a rope, or because they had no other options left in their lives.

Some had joined out of duty, others for glory. When the Joining was done, none doubted what they were truly doing. Even those who had done the newer Joining felt the same. No; she wasn’t going to become a ghoul - but she understood why Duncan and Blackwall and even Alistair had been so adamant about their choice.

She felt tears pricking her eyes as she thought about what this debacle was going to do to the reputation of her Order.

“Oh, good. You’re here!” Nathaniel Howe shouted when he saw her by the large bay doors. She gave a sad smile and stepped into the group; taking a chair that had been vacated for her.

“Let’s get on with it,” she said somberly. “It’s going to be hard enough to make this decision as it is.”

Bronwynn stood bleary eyed next to the Frostback Mountain horse that Dennet had presented her with that morning and wondered how she was to mount the animal. It stood about twenty hands, even with a block she couldn’t reach the stirrup.

The animal was standing quite placidly waiting for her to mount. She stepped back to look at him more closely; and realized it was a she. Her coat was almost as fiery as Bronwynn’s hair and when the horse turned to look at her curiously there were hints of green in her eyes.

“Having trouble, my love?” Cullen said from behind her as she stared at the animal.

“She’s so big,” the mage said, stifling a yawn with her hand.

“Did I keep you up too late?” he asked in her ear, sending shivers down her spine with the warmth of his breath.

“Yes, and I doubt you’re the least bit sorry,” she grumbled with mock anger. “Help me up,” she then haughtily commanded.

“As you wish,” he said before lifting her by her hips to let her put her booted foot into the stirrup. She stuck her tongue out at him when she was seated. He smiled and pulled himself up into his own saddle. His horse was blonde; but brown eyed.

“Okay, I think Dorian had a hand in choosing the horses,” She said wryly.

“They do seem to match us quite well,” her Templar said with a laugh. She frowned at him as she realized he was in far too good of spirits for the amount of sleep they didn’t get the night before.

“Move out!” he called to the small force that was travelling with them. All soldiers who had family in or near South Reach, she noticed and then she grinned. That explained his good mood.


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42**

"Hunh,” Cullen said with curiosity as he and Bronwynn walked through his hometown of Honnleath. Cullen had taken the group through the small town as they went further into Fereldan. The small force made camp just outside the ruins of the small town; the Blight had not been kind to the village.

“What?” She asked as she strolled beside him, her hand warm in his.

“The golem statue is gone,” he replied. “Wonder why,” he finished absently. He shook his head and they continued until they reached a small lake. Clearly an offshoot of Lake Calenhad he told her, it had no name.

“Wow,” she whispered almost reverently. “It’s beautiful.” The setting sun had set the clouds in the sky to flame with deep purples and fiery oranges which were reflected by the almost still waters. She walked to the end of the short, worn pier to watch the light play over the water as the cooling night lifted a gentle mist on the surface. The only sounds were of the water lapping along the pier and the shore, frogs chirping and the occasional bird call. “Peaceful.” She said softly. 

Cullen took a deep breath and joined her near the pylons at the end of the pier. He pulled her into his arms to hold her while they watched the sun sink below the horizon.

“I used to come here when I needed to get away from my siblings,” he told her. “I enjoyed the solitude.” She smiled, and he knew she did even though he couldn’t see her face right then. “I always wished I could bring you out here.” He told her.

“Ahh,” she said wistfully. She didn’t need to ask why. Their time in the Tower at Kinloch had been both idyllic and stressful. She knew now that though what she had felt for him had been real, it had been naive.

“Why did you become a Templar, Vhenan?” She asked him suddenly.

“Don’t you know?” He asked with surprise. “I thought we talked about it before,” he said.  

“I don’t remember if we did,” she answered. He laughed softly before sitting on the post opposite his mage.

“I wanted to protect people.” He said simply. “I could see no better way than to become a Templar,” his eyes took on a far away look as he remembered. “I told my siblings I was going to be a Templar when I was eight and from then on I badgered the Templars in our village for training,” there was a small smile on his thin lips as he thought about the memory.  “Eight, hunh?” She asked. “What did your family think of that?” 

“My sisters and brothers thought I was joking and mother and father thought I would change my mind,” he looked up at the night sky, watching as the stars began to make their appearance. “I guess the Knight Captain saw something in me since he convinced my parents to let me go with him for formal training.” 

“Where did you get your training? I knew you were from Honnleath; but I don’t think this place was big enough to keep trainees,” Bronwynn asked.

“True, apparently it has gotten around that I was trained here when I am just, from here. My training was actually in Denerim. Some of the Knights thought that I wouldn’t be able to catch up to my peers since I was older than most who served the Chantry.” 

"How old were you?”

“Thirteen when I was taken to Denerim. I was excited to finally be so close to my dream. It wasn’t easy, but I worked hard to succeed,” Bronwynn laughed lightly at the way he dismissed his accomplishment. 

“I will have you know, my heart, that I seriously doubt you had that much trouble.” He frowned at her.

“Why?” 

“Because I know you well enough to know that you would have excelled; simply because you don’t know how to do any less,” she said with unmitigated pride. Her reward for that assurance was his lopsided grin. 

“I wanted to be the perfect student,” he admitted. “But even my mind wandered when I was trying to memorize Transfigurations at one o’clock in the morning.” They both laughed at that statement.

“The night before I left, my brother Branson found me here,” he had placed his hand in his pocked and pulled something out that he wasn’t showing her yet. “He gave me this,” he opened his hand and in it was a small silver bit, clearly worn from worry. “He said it was his lucky coin and he wanted me to have it,” he sighed as he ran his thumb over the warm silver.

“Templars aren’t supposed to keep anything from their previous lives, but I kept this one thing,” he said with fondness. 

“I’m glad,” she responded. “I know how much your family means to you.” He nodded and took her left hand in his. He could just make out the small gleam of gold on her hand from her engagement ring. 

“I want you to have it, to keep you safe,” he said softly as he placed it in her open palm. She closed her fingers over his to squeeze his fingers.

“I’ll keep it safe,” she promised before leaning into him. Their lips met in a long gentle kiss.

* * *

 

It was just Bronwynn and Cullen entering the market two weeks later. He had given the others leave to head to their families once they had cleared the Bracilian forest two days past. 

“Mia!” Cullen called when he saw his sister from a distance. They had just entered the market of the Arl of South Reach main village. Only slightly smaller than Amaranthine, however it was a stretch to call it just a village. Several heads turned as his voice echoed across the busy square. Bronwynn could only chuckle when he looked embarrassed to have gotten so much attention.

“This isn’t a practice field,” Bronwynn quipped when he looked at her helplessly. He frowned as he realized she wasn’t going to give him any sympathy. “You can be loud, my love” she said in response to his look. 

“Cullen?” A woman’s voice came from their left, she saw his eyes lit with recognition just before they turned to see the owner of the voice. There was a woman of about twenty-six standing with a full basket standing about five feet from them. She was on the smallish side with golden locks and brown eyes. Her face was slightly squarish with a softness that bespoke recent pregnancy.

“Rosalie!” The normally contained soldier exclaimed, rather loudly as well. He dismounted so quickly from his horse that he stumbled slightly when he hit the ground. He enveloped the small woman in a bear hug and spun her around. She had dropped her basket and wound her small arms around his neck as he had.

Bronwynn watched for a moment as the woman began to jabber excitedly before she dismounted from her own horse. She felt hands grip her waist to help her down and gave a slight squeal since they weren’t Cullen’s hands.

“What!” Cullen had turned and drawn his sword at the sound, startling everyone in the square with how quickly he moved. Bronwynn had stumbled away from the person who had helped her and turned with her own sword drawn. Standing before them, looking rather startled with arms raised in surrender, was a slightly stockier version of Cullen. He stood the same height but was broader across the shoulders and thicker of waist. 

“Branson!” The woman shouted with laughter and Cullen shouted with surprise. He sheathed his sword quickly, pulling Bronwynn closer to him as he did.

“Maker, brother! I was just helping your lady down from her horse!” The man said. He looked warily at the mage who had already put her own sword away. 

“Sorry about that,” she replied. “I just wasn’t expecting the help.” Cullen took her hand in his and squeezed to let her know he was close. He could feel her shaking. 

“Is it safe to come close, brother?” Branson asked with a small laugh as he stepped in to hug his older brother. Bronwynn made sure to step back to give them room; but stayed in her lover’s line of site. 

"Bronwynn?” The mage turned to see a dark blond woman standing behind her with a wide smile on her full lips. 

“You must be Mia” Bronwynn responded with a smile of her own. The older woman nodded and held open her arms for a hug. Bronwynn stepped in and gave her one. After so many years writing one another she was already like a sister to the mage. 

“I am sorry, I would have warned Branson if I had known you were coming,” Mia told her, but Bronwynn shook her head.

“It’s okay, Cullen didn’t tell me we were coming and he was just being helpful,” she grinned self consciously. “I’m just too sensitive sometimes,” she tried to dismiss, only to have the older blond scoff.

“Cullen found the time to tell me he was coming; he said nothing about you!” She laughed and squeezed the younger woman tightly. “It is good to finally meet you, though!”

“Aye. After so many letters,” Bronwynn agreed with a laugh. They turned to the other three, two of whom were chattering at Cullen like magpies. Cullen reached out and took Bronwynn’s hand to pull her to him. 

“Allow me to introduce you,” he said just slightly louder than the two of them. “To my fiancé, Bronwynn Amell.”  That announcement brought silence to the whole square; everyone stopped pretending to be ignoring them at that point. 

“Your fiancé?” Mia said in shock before her face lit up with joy. “Truly! By the Maker I had given up hope!” She squealed before throwing her arms around the mage once more to squeeze her harder than before. She grabbed her hands and danced around with the mage while laughing, causing the mage to laugh as well.

Branson grabbed his brother’s hand and pulled him into a one armed hug, pumping his hand and pounding his back in congratulations. The youngest of the four stood there staring at them all with utter confusion.

“Wait, I thought Templars couldn’t get married?” She asked, which sent everyone but Bronwynn into peals of laughter.

“Rosalie, Templars can marry as long as the Chantry allows it,” she said stepping forward to offer her hand to the girl. They were the same age, Bronwynn and Rosalie. The golden haired girl frowned at the offered hand before Bronwynn dropped it and stepped back. “However, Cullen is no longer a Templar; he’s the Commander of the Inquisition forces,” she explained. She could feel Cullen bristling at the insult his sister had dealt her.

“Who are you?” The girl asked, and Bronwynn wondered if no one had told her about their relationship at all. 

“Inquisitor Bronwynn Amell,” Cullen snarled “The Herald of Andraste,” and Bronwynn rolled her eyes and touched his arm gently. Rosalie’s brown eyes had widened as he spoke, recognizing that he was angry. “She is also the woman I love; do you have a problem with that sister?” He asked her. Bronwynn shook her head and tried to soothe his ire. 

“I-I’m sorry, Cullen but no one told me she was a mage!” The girl complained. There was the sound of angry voices after she spoke. Before Cullen could look around to confront anyone an older woman spoke up.

“By Andraste, girl! Who cares?” There was the sound of general agreement with the old woman. The poor girl’s eyes filled with tears and Bronwynn sighed in frustration.

“Rosalie, it’s okay that you don’t like me,” she said loudly enough for those closest to hear her. The girl frowned and the tears dried up rather quickly. Mia and Branson both laughed at their sister’s confusion; she was used to getting her way it seemed.

Cullen realized what she had been trying to do and snorted with his own exasperation. It had been over ten years since he had last seen his siblings, and he only wrote Mia when he wrote at all. Apparently his youngest sister had gotten spoiled in those years. 

“Well, let’s get you two refreshed and the horses put up,” Branson said as he took the reins of the Frostbacks and turned towards the edge of town. Mia linked her arm through Bronwynn’s and began to talk about wedding plans. Cullen rolled his eyes as he followed behind them. 

“No,” he said when they started talking about the colors of the clothing. “Blue and green,” he said with finality which sent both women into fits of giggles. Rosalie looked after them for a brief moment before shouting at them to wait up and running after them, leaving her basket where it had fallen.

Bronwynn stood outside the large home that Mia shared with her husband and children watching three of the children as they played with the farm cats. She could hear Cullen inside talking with Branson, Mia’s husband Josen and Rosalie’s husband Michele about the state of the world. She hadn’t told him yet that she could feel a Rift somewhat close by; but she wouldn’t wait long. It was too dangerous to ignore it.

“She spends half her time riding the countryside sealing up individual rifts and the other half maneuvering the royalty into doing things her way,” she heard him saying with amusement. 

“So she really can seal them? It’s not just hype?” Josen asked with suspicion.

“I thought I’d lost her for a second time when she closed the rift at the Temple of Sacred Ashes,” Cullen said somberly. “She will drive herself to exhaustion trying to save the world,” he went on. 

“I can’t imagine that is easy for you,” Michele said. He had a very slight Orlesian kant to some of his words that marked him as having come from the border. Cullen gave a bitter laugh and pulled her into his lap when she entered the room to pout at him. 

“I would wrap her in cotton and chain her to Skyhold if I thought it would actually keep her safe,” he admitted, she smiled and blushed at the thought.

“He makes sure my inner circle are well trained; and they are all terrified of what he would do to them if I were ever seriously hurt on their watch,” she told the three men.

“Hah!” Cullen said with humor. “I can’t see Iron Bull actually being worried about what I would do at all,” he said and Bronwynn giggled.

“The last time we were in the Storm Coast we had to head through one of the caves to get over to that old Dwarven pier,” she began. The other three looked expectantly at her while Cullen groaned.

"Now Bull is a Qunari, and rather large at that. His horns are actually as wide as his shoulders and it’s pretty impressive,” she went on, warming to her topic.

“We’re heading through this cave, and we’ve been through it a dozen times in the last month or so. Now, we’re thinking there’s nothing left in the cave. I mean, how fast do spider eggs hatch, right?” Branson’s blue eyes had widened in shock at the thought of giant spiders although Michele and Josen nodded as if they completely understood. Cullen was shaking his head as he listened. 

“About halfway through Cole decides to ask Bull if he ever worried that there was a demon on his left side where he couldn’t see,” she grinned with the memory. “Bull lost his left eye in a fight in Tevinter,” she explained. “So he’s like, ‘ _ Well I do now! _ ’ And we all laugh,” she is giggling as she mimics the Qunari’s voice and mannerisms.

“Well, I’m on the left edge of the party, and he doesn’t actually see where I am; although he can hear me laughing,” she leans forward with her arms on the table in front of her and waves them closer conspiratorially. “Well, I happened to think I saw something move on  _ my _ left so I fired up a mage light,” she grinned when she felt Cullen’s body stiffen behind her.

“I did it without saying a word, out of instinct, and Bull reacted the same way. He damn near sliced me in half,” she said with a crow. 

"He what?” Cullen said softly. She nodded her head vigorously. 

“Oh, the look on his face when he realized what he had done.” She twisted her face into a mask of horror. “ _ Vivienne, Ma’am! _ ’ He shouted. ‘ _ Heal her quick, don’t let her die! _ ’ He had grabbed me by the shoulders to lay me down and used his big hands to try and stop the bleeding,” she said, showing where the gash was with her hands on her right side.

“Well, Vivienne started laughing, and so did Dorian and Solas; the other three mages in the group. He leapt up with his sword and put it to the First Enchanter’s chest, screaming at her to help me when Cole intervened.” She sat back against Cullen’s chest as she laughingly finished her tale.

“‘ _ She already healed herself, _ ’ Cole told him, pointing to me as I was pulling myself up off the stone floor. Now, I’d never seen that man frightened of anything before, so when I asked him why he had gotten so panicked he looked me dead in the eyes and said, I shit you not, “‘ _ That Commander of yours would peel the skin off me inch by inch if I let you die; can you imagine what he’d do to me if I was the one that killed you? _ ’”

All three men roared with laughter and slapped the table for a good five minutes. Cullen had buried his face in one hand and groaned. 

“Why do you never tell me these things when you get back?” He asked her complaintitively. She shrugged before answering.

“Honestly, I don’t think about it. It happens when we are on mission, and the only thing I’m really thinking about is the mission,” she admitted. “When we get back to Skyhold I am only thinking of warm beds and baths,” she answered with a wicked grin.

“You will be the death of me,” he muttered, which made her laugh a little longer.

“I promise to make it a happy death,” she said before rising and flitting off to join his sisters in the next room. 

Mia had three children, Branson had one and Rosalie was expecting her first. Branson’s wife was a short, rosy cheeked, brunette with a smile that seemed to be permanently etched into her face. Their son was barely six months old and she doted on him merrily. 

“I can’t believe my brother actually asked you to marry him!” Mia gushed when Bronwynn entered the over large family room. Bronwynn smiled as she remembered the night he asked and sat down next to Andrea, Branson’s wife.

“He asked me two years ago,” she admitted, holding out her hand to show the emerald he’d given her. It wasn’t a large stone, nor a garish one. The simplicity of it made it quite beautiful. 

“How did he ask?” Rosalie asked, she still sounded petulant, but curious as well. Bronwynn blushed before answering.

“We were just waking,” she said as an aversion to what had been happening first. She was blushing deeply enough for the three married women to understand that wasn’t completely true. “He kind of just blurted it out; as if he hadn’t meant to say it just then, but couldn’t help himself,” she said, the blush fading as she remembered the feeling of peace that had come over her when he had asked her. How certain she had been that she wanted to be this man’s wife.

She looked down at the stone and laughed as she told them what he said next.

“He said,  ‘ _ Finding this emerald took time, and still I don’t think it matches your eyes exactly. Will you wear this? _ ’” She looked up at his sisters, tears of joy in her eyes. “I thought the world would stop until he put it on my hand,” she wiped her eyes and sighed.

“Do you wear it always?” Rosalie asked, and there was a cunning note in her voice that no one missed. The four men had entered the room just seconds before, to hear Bronwynn speaking of how Cullen had asked her to marry him, so Cullen was the one to answer for her.

“Andraste, I hope not. I like her hands just as they are,” Rosalie looked up in shock as even her husband was shaking his head at her. 

“What do you mean?” She asked, truly confused.

"I do a lot of fighting, Rosalie,” the mage answered. “So I keep it on a chain when I am on a mission.” 

“Come, my Rose, let’s get you to bed” Michele said softly before leading her to the back of the house. It was late enough that the whole family was staying on the farm. Mia had married well and and the farm was quite large.

"I am sorry, Bronwynn,” Mia said after the two were out of earshot.

“No, don’t,” Bronwynn replied as she waved a hand at the older woman. “You have no control over her actions,” she said. Mia just shook her head in exasperation. 

“She didn’t behave this way until she got pregnant,” Andrea said by way of explanation. “It sometimes happens; the changes you understand?” Bronwynn nodded, although it was clear she was still offended. 

“Is there anything a healer could do?” Cullen asked. He’d never been around any pregnant women so wasn’t sure if it was normal or not. He just knew the little sister he had known would never have treated his love the way she was now. Mia shrugged helplessly.

“The town had a chirurgeon before the sky exploded,” she said with concern. “But she hasn’t been seen for several weeks; and no one will go looking for her,” Cullen nodded.

“It’s so dangerous I don’t blame them,” Bronwynn answered. She looked down at her left hand as it pulsed. 

“Is there a rift close by?” Cullen asked with concern. She nodded and looked up at him. 

“I was going to mention it tomorrow. See if we could get a few of our soldiers to come and help close it,” she replied.

“I will help,” Michele said as he reentered the room. “I will send for several of my men as well,” he offered. She smiled in relief. 

“That would probably be better than trying to find our soldiers,” she responded. He nodded and left to have one of Josen’s men head to his own farm. Branson grinned and admitted that he was much better with a pitchfork than a sword and shield, so he’d pray for their safety. To which Cullen gave thanks. He didn’t want to put his family in any danger; but if she had been going to mention the rift to him on the morrow it was better if it was taken care of. 

“Oh, this will give me a chance to test something!” She said suddenly, garnering a frown from her lover.

“What?” 

“I have been wondering if Templars could actually weaken a rift enough to keep them from pulling demons from the fade,” she said. “If so then we can get Templars out to areas where I can’t right away and perhaps get some better protection for the more isolated areas!” Cullen’s blue eyes widened in surprise and appreciation.

“That is definitely worth checking into,” he agreed. “But are you sure I’m the best to test it?” He asked her. He had no qualms about admitting he had given up lyrium; and although he hated losing his abilities because of it he was glad he was no longer tied to the Chantry. Bronwynn’s shake of her head and rolled eyes confused him.

“Explain, my love.” 

“Seekers don’t use lyrium to do exactly what Templars do, you don’t need the lyrium,” she said. “You just need the will - and you, vhenan have the will,” she answered with full confidence. He laughingly pulled her to her feet and kissed her before saying goodnight and leading her to their room.

Cullen was pleased to see that the men Michele had sent for were actually trained soldiers. Michele told him he tended to hire the men who were tired of fighting or who wanted to get their hands dirty in a different way. None of them had been bandits, but they had all served one lord or another. There were even two Chevalier in the group of ten men that showed up on the Blackstone homestead. 

“We may not be as good as your inner circle, Inquisitor; but we will keep the demons off you,” Michele swore. 

“I want you to do your best to not get killed,” she said solemnly. “I don’t need to give Rosalie another reason to hate me,” she said with a smile to soften the blow. The brown haired man huffed a laugh as he responded.

“She doesn’t actually hate you, Inquisitor.” He said. When Bronwynn gave him a skeptical look he went on. “She is jealous, my Lady.” Bronwynn snorted her disbelief. 

“Tis true, she doesn’t understand what it is you do. She only knows that she missed her brother, and when he comes to see her; he brings a stranger. So she feels as if you have stolen him from her,” He pointed to where the others were waiting for the group to come back. They were preparing a large feast and it looked as if there were going to be a party when they returned. 

“She is the youngest in the family, and after their parents died, Mia and Branson doted on her a bit,” he sighed affectionately. “I know she had a good upbringing because she is normally quite helpful to those who need it,” he looked at her with a look of consternation. “I know she is jealous because of how she speaks of you. She wants to know who you are, but doesn’t want to ask you,” now he shrugged his shoulders helplessly. Bronwynn shook her head and patted his shoulder as Cullen arrived in the conversation.

"Then my darling little sister could ask me,” he said with a growl as he lifted Bronwynn to her horse. 

“I swear, Dennett did it on purpose,” she grumbled as she settled herself astride the beast. Michele was the only one who caught Cullen’s sly grin before he turned to mount his own Frostback stallion.

“What are their names?” He asked the pair and Bronwynn sighed.

“Mine is Tempest,” Cullen said before grinning at his mage. “Her’s is named Harel. Elven for Trickster” and Michele laughed with the Commander when she snorted and kicked the horse into movement. Michele quickly mounted his own horse and caught up to Cullen.

“She thinks someone else chose the mount for her?” He asked the older man quietly. Cullen nodded.

“She has no idea that I had these two bred specifically for her stables,” Cullen admitted.

“How can she have her own stables? She’s a mage,” Michele asked.

“Ah, but she’s a clever woman. That she is a Free Marcher meant that she kept her title even though she was sent to Kinloch Hold and the law forbids her to actually be in charge of a holding.” He nodded when she turned back to check on him before she called the men to her to give her instructions. 

“I do not recall the Free Marches allowing mages to own land,” Michele queried. Cullen smiled.

“She doesn’t, I do,” there was a laugh of understanding from the other. 

"Bought in your name, without your knowledge?”

“Yes, although I did find out eventually. It was a good thing she didn’t do it until she had left the Circle, though.” Cullen shook his head as he thought about the consequences if she had been caught.

“Why?”

“She was harboring apostates,” Cullen saw the young farmers eyes widen in shock.

“Oh, if it had been anyone else I would have had them brought up on charges; but I know my mage,” Cullen said. “When I found out about it, I checked on who she was taking in.” He turned to look at his brother in law with frank honesty.

“She was protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves, and she made sure they got an education that would keep them safe,” he nodded to the woman who was leading them to the rift that had them all in danger. “It’s what she does, what she has always done,” he said and the pride in his voice touched the younger man. Cullen Rutherford knew his woman well and believed in her. It was something so few had, and with them having been taught to be polar opposites. 

"The Maker truly blessed you both,” Michele said with wonder. Cullen smiled and then laughed. 

“Well, he made sure my life would be forever interesting when he bound my heart to hers,” The Templar admitted before spurring Tempest to catch up with the mage.

It had been so very long since she and Cullen had actually fought side by side she hoped she didn’t get in his way. Sure, they still sparred but it wasn’t quite the same. 

They crested a small hill and everyone gasped as they caught sight of the rift. The yellow green pulsing orb was far larger than any other she had seen in the area for a while; which worried her. 

Cullen watched as she winced involuntarily when her left hand began to pulse in time with the rift. She turned her face to him and it was pinched with pain and worry.

“It’s larger than I expected,” she whispered to him, not wanting to frighten the fighters with them any more than they already were. 

“I don’t sense any demons nearby,” he said with his own worry. That could mean any number of things, and only one of them was good.

Bronwynn took a deep breath and opened up her sight. She groaned when she saw why Cullen wasn’t sensing any demons. There was only one, and it was Jealousy. She had never faced one of these creatures before and was unsure just how she should deal with it.

_ Admit your own.  _ H er Compassion friend said  _ Accept it; as you do your fear. _

_ Shield your mind. _ Knowledge whispered.  _ As you would from rage. _

Bronwynn smiled inwardly and thanked her friends. She turned to those who were with her to fight. 

“Men,” she said with a confidence she wasn’t sure she actually felt. “Though you can’t see it, we face a Jealousy demon,” she pointed to the rift. “It hides within the energy created by the tear in the fade,” she gave them her cunning smile; the one that made everyone think she knew things no one else did.

“I know we all have reasons to be jealous of one another, this is normal. Jealousy demons however, twist that into something more. Oh, they aren't as powerful as Envy demons, they don’t want to become you - they just want to take it all away from you!” She weighed her words carefully before she finished speaking. She needed them confident, but not arrogant.

“Keep your minds on the task at hand, killing the demon and sealing the rift. Know that I will seal this rift and banish the monstrosity to the deepest reaches of the fade. I ask only that you remember your promise to stay alive,” she looked over the soldiers and then dismounted with a flair. They all followed suit.

“Shield your minds with thoughts of Andraste, and let’s close this rift!” She shouted before turning and leading the charge. Cullen himself got caught up in her enthusiasm before he knew it. 

The thirteen of them were in the field with the rift in seconds, she motioned to Cullen and he focused on the rift with the intent to force it closed. The area around the hole rippled as his will began to affect the pulsing orb.

Michele and his men had quickly surrounded the demon that had revealed itself as they got close. They gave it no quarter while Bronwynn pulled on the rift with the anchor. 

“Keep it up Cullen, it’s working!” She shouted before sending out a blast of ice to encase the steadily weakening demon. Unlike envy or terror, the creature looked as if it were made of the finest golds and silks. A walking treasure trove. It attacked with lashes of spirit energy but the men were steady with their shields. She could hear it trying to twist the men against one another: 

“ _ You see, he has what you need, why do you not take it? _ ”

“ _ Just slide your blade to the left, no one will blame you. She looks at you more than him. _ ”

_ "Your wife would be happy with you, and you would be able to take the animal. _ ”

No matter what the creature hissed; however, the words fell on deaf ears. She could hear them encouraging one another when it looked as if they might fall or give in.

“ _ You can’t have what they have, can you Inquisitor? _ ” She heard it whisper to her. “ _ He will always love even Rosalie more than he loves you, _ ” She knew it was on it’s last breath and trying whatever it could to hold onto this reality. 

“Once more, Inquisitor! Hit it with ice!” Michele shouted from where he stood with shield raised and sword ready. “We’ll teach this thing about family!” She smiled and felt her own jealousy lifting with those words. 

“With pleasure!” She shouted as she encased the monstrosity in ice. The eleven men shouted as one and drove their swords point first into the frozen demon.

She felt the twist in the fade as Cullen actually firmed the area around the rift, the sudden burst of energy from the shift gave her the momentum she needed to slam the rift closed; sending the demon back through the rift and into the fade. She and Cullen were breathing deeply but neither stopped until both felt the whole area was clear. 

Cullen grabbed her before she collapsed. 

“Love?” He asked frantically, she laughed with exhaustion.

"Okay, wow, I don’t think I want to do that with a Templar working beside me again,” she said. “I forgot how strong you were,” she told him.

“What happened?” Michele asked with concern as Cullen picked her up. 

“His gifts counter mine,” Bronwynn said with a yawn as he carried her to where their horses were waiting. “And I was too close to where they were being focused.” Cullen snorted, putting her in Michele’s arms long enough for him to mount his horse, he then took her from the man.

“Will it return?” One of the other men asked, worry clear in his voice. Cullen and Bronwynn gave him identical smiles.

“No, it is closed and gone,” Cullen answered. “Let us return to the farm to let our families know the rift is gone and it is now safe.” Cullen was careful not to deafen his mage as he used his parade voice to reach all the men as they mounted their horses. There was a cry of victory as they mounted and followed the Inquisitor and the Commander. 

* * *

 

Cullen was amazed at how quickly the women had managed to get a party together. They had only had a few hours to get it done, and yet the whole yard looked like it had been decorated that way for years. His sisters were circling the grounds with smiles and welcome for anyone who came. When the group had returned from the fight, the blond had settled his mage on a cushioned chair that had been brought out for her

“I just need to rest a little, Cullen!” She had insisted.

“You almost passed out,” he groused. She ran her finger down his cheek.

“Believe it or not, that is a good thing,” she said. His frown showed he was not buying that. “It means that your abilities are stronger now than they were when you were using the lyrium,” she went on. 

“How?” He demanded.

“I have no idea,” she admitted. “Ask Cassandra when we return to Skyhold.” 

Now he watched from several feet away as the redhead held court with the town elders arranged around her. Michele kept the men plied with hard apple cider and tales of the short fight with the demon. Josen and Branson kept the younglings occupied with games. It had the feeling of a Midsummer Faire and Cullen found himself relaxing when several people began to tune instruments to play.

"Here, brother,” Cullen looked down to see Rosalie holding up a glass of strawberry lemonade. He took it and sat down upon a stack of hay bales nearby so he wasn’t towering over her. He knew she was only a few months pregnant, but he was amazed that she wasn’t showing. 

“I’m sorry,” she blurted. There was a stain to her cheeks and no tears this time. He didn’t say a word or even acknowledge the statement. He let his gaze wander over the group of dancers; noting that Bronwynn and Mia had moved to the open area to watch the dancing. Let her stew and admit her wrong doing. He loved her dearly; but he would not allow her to think it was okay for her to disrespect Bronwynn. Even if he hadn’t loved her for thirteen years she was still the Inquisitor.

“Maker, you’re just the same,” she grumbled. “I thought being away from us would make you nicer.” He snorted before taking a sip of the drink. She had made it and he knew this because it was more sweet than tart. She preferred to taste more strawberries than lemons.

“You always thought life should be a sweet as your strawberry lemonade,” he countered. She sighed and sat beside him.

"Mia gave me an earful,” she admitted. “Branson also.” She looked up at her oldest brother, and now there were tears shimmering in her eyes. Real tears, this time. “Yes, I knew you were in love with a mage,” she admitted. “Mia told me years ago, before you left for Kirkwall.” He said nothing. One of the oldsters had begun to call a reel to dance to and Cullen watched them rather than look at his sister. After the first set was done she spoke again.

“Why did you bring her?” Rosalie sounded younger than her twenty-six years. She managed to sound all of sixteen and full of herself. Still he didn’t respond. He wanted to give her an earful of his own but knew that she wouldn’t hear it. 

“What is she like?” The girl finally asked. Cullen’s response caused her to wince with hurt.

“Do you really want to know, or is this another ploy to hurt her?” She hung her head and Cullen narrowed his eyes. He felt one of Bronwynn’s spirit friends brush against his mind and he let it in. 

_ She is hurting. She is confused, truly confused. _ It was Compassion and Cullen sighed, asking it for guidance.  _ Be honest _ it said.

"I _am_ angry with you, Rosalie.” He said into the silence. Her head raised to look at his profile. “I know I didn’t write to you and I am sorry for that. Yet that doesn’t give you the right to treat my fiancé with such disrespect,” he looked down into her brown eyes, their Father’s eyes. “Mother would have done more than given you an earful for treating her that way,” he said softly. 

“She’s a  _ mage _ !” Rosalie exclaimed. He listened to her words as well as watched her body. She was lying, and he thought she was lying to herself as well. The spirit of Compassion agreed with his assessment.

“You don’t actually care that she is a mage, Rose,” he said so matter of factly that she looked startled. She opened her mouth to disagree and ended up looking like a drowning fish as she opened and closed her mouth for several seconds before closing it and looking down at her feet in confusion.

“Tell me Rose; do you love Michele?” He asked her. Her head snapped up and her eyes flashed with pride and love.

“Yes!” She said, with such vehemence he almost felt the word against his chest.

“Does he work to make you happy?” 

“He doesn’t have to  _ work _ at it! I am blessed that he loves me,” she said. She didn’t hear the anger in her voice at being questioned in such a way. Cullen did and pointed it out.

“Why are you angry with me for asking these questions?” He asked her. “I wasn’t here for the courtship. I didn’t know the man before yesterday. I truly was told nothing about your marriage,” he pointed out. It was true, to an extent. Mia had told Bronwynn in her letters, but Cullen hadn’t known until after he had decided to come to South Reach to see his family.

Once again she gawped at him. She took a deep breath and held it in an attempt to keep from crying. 

“Mia wrote you,” she whined. Cullen shook his head.

“Mia wrote me to remind me to write her,” he said with an indulgent smile. “She wrote Bronwynn for everything else. Bronwynn is the one who knew about your marriage,” he said. She narrowed her eyes at him and stuck out her chin.

“You sent us the lyrium laced elven jade vase,” she said as if that was proof he knew. His blue eyes widened in surprise.

“Um, no. Bronwynn made that for you,” he told her. The girl stood up and faced him, panic edging into her visage.

“She … she …” Cullen reached out and pulled her into a hug to calm her down before she started to hyperventilate. “She made it?” 

“Yes, I watched her make it while we were in Kirkwall,” he said. “She was so excited about it. _Do you think Rosalie would prefer marble or jade with the lyrium?_ _Ooh, what is her favorite flower, I have forgotten!_ ” He mimicked her voice as he quoted her. 

"I had no idea it was a wedding gift, I thought it was a birthday gift,” he told his youngest sibling. 

“But she kept you from coming home,” the girl wailed into his chest. Cullen took a deep breath. Now they came to the heart of it; and now he had to speak of things he had hoped to keep from her. Not out of spite but because he wanted her to keep thinking the world was as sweet as her strawberry lemonade.

“Rose,” he said as he set her away from him so he could look her in the face. “I was a Templar,” he reminded her. “I had my duty to the Chantry.” He sighed and took her small work rough hands into his sword calloused ones.

“I transferred to Kirkwall right after the Blight,” his shoulders fell as the next words left his mouth. “I didn’t want to come home, then.” He felt Bronwynn’s hands on his back as he spoke. He hadn’t realized she had circled around the dancers. 

“I wanted nothing more than to forget Fereldan existed,” he told his sister. 

“Why?” The question came from Mia, who had also come up on the conversation with Bronwynn.

“There were things,” he shuddered. “That happened to me; things I needed to recover from,” he told them frankly. “I wasn’t myself.” 

He could feel Compassion encouraging him, letting him know that this was good. This was healing. He let the bleakness show, so that his sisters would understand it hadn’t been their fault. 

“When Bronwynn reminded me I had a family. A family that loved me,” he looked at his little sister who was four months pregnant with her first child and smiled. “It was the reminder I needed to actually start healing,” he admitted. 

"So, Bronwynn didn’t keep you from us?” She asked. There was hurt in her voice, but hope as well.

“No. Mostly it was my duty to the Chantry. Yet, it was also me,” he said. 

Cullen took a deep breath after that and almost swore aloud when he felt something inside him shake loose. He wasn’t cured but he felt better. He sent a thought of thanks to Compassion and felt a warmth from within in response.

Rosalie turned brown eyes to the green eyes standing behind her brother. There was a fierce protectiveness in those eyes as well as love. She wanted to hate this mage, wanted to blame her for her brother leaving to become a Templar and yet … 

“I owe you an apology, Inquisitor,” she said stiffly. Bronwynn gave her a grave nod. 

"Cullen,” his mage said solemnly. 

“Yes, my heart?”

“Dance with me.” She grinned before grabbing his hands and pulling him to his feet. He laughed with her as he joined her in the country reel.

Mia smiled with joy as she watched her, oh so serious brother, move through the dance with abandon. 

“He really does love her, and she really loves him,” their little sister said. There was a note of dismay in the statement.

“Why is that a bad thing, little Rose?” Mia asked with exasperation.

"I am a fool and have ruined whatever chance I may have had at a good relationship with her,” the young girl said sadly. Mia laughed and hugged the younger blond haired woman.

“You will have to read the letters she has written over the years, Rose. You’ll learn so much about our sister,” she said this before dragging the innocent girl to her husband to join the dancing.


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43**

Bronwynn stood on the balcony outside her rooms at Skyhold watching the figures below moving through their morning routines. Her group had returned a week ago and she was still feeling relaxed from the break. The soldiers who had gone with them and had family in the area were singing her and Cullen’s praises for allowing them to accompany them as well as for letting them spend several weeks with their own families. 

Bronwynn was just happy that they were all refreshed and recharged from the trip. She knew that Cullen was working on a way to allow others to take the same amount of time off to be with their families without leaving the keep defenseless. Morale for the Inquisition was higher than it had been in a while, so much so that even Sera was happy. 

Bronwynn sighed into the slight breeze that was blowing around the tower and let the sun soak into her skin. As she listened to the sounds of the keep and the mountain, letting herself relax. She heard a rapping on the door below her room. Elena’s quick steps were muffled slightly by the carpeting on the stairwell.

“M’lady? Magister Gereon Alexius and his son would like to speak with you,” Elena said from inside the glass doors. She didn’t like the drop beneath the balcony. Bronwynn came inside and said to let them in. She made herself comfortable in one of the chairs before the fireplace. 

“Inquisitor,” Alexius said while he and his son bowed to her. She waved them to seats beside her and asked Elena to bring them some tea. It was early enough she knew there would be iced lemon bread with the tea. The elf moved to the wood stove that she used to keep the Inquisitor and Commander’s food warm as well as to make tea for them.

“How may I assist you, Magister?” She asked him. He looked uncomfortable for a moment, then answered.

“I have learned more of the mages that are working with Corypheus, Inquisitor. There are more Magisters than I had believed, although most are merely Altus.” He sighed and looked to the fire before continuing.

“Dorian has the ear of those who are more likely to buck the system, so I’m certain you and Sister Leliana have heard rumors.” He looked back at the Inquisitor and his face was drawn long in sadness. It was the same look he had carried when she first met him, there was even a hint of that same desperation. 

Bronwynn almost laughed when she heard a soft snort from across the room as Elena was making their tea.

“As you know, due to my illness, Father made the acquaintance of mages he wouldn’t normally have,” Felix said neutrally. Bronwynn smiled slightly when Alexius flinched at the accusation. She had known from the start that he used blood magic; yet there was no taint to his aura. Either he had paid someone else to use it, or he had only ever used his own and only to counter the symptoms of the blight. She was inclined to believe the latter since she could clearly see he loved his son beyond reason. She also thought that Felix would have taken his own life rather than allow his Father to use someone else in that manner.

“These are the same people who introduced him to Corypheus,” he went on with bitterness. Bronwynn nodded her understanding. It was clear the younger man wasn’t sure just how angry he should be with his father’s choices.

“I gather that the mages you are hearing of aren’t the one’s you were working with before?” She asked. Both men nodded.

“Tell me what you have heard,” she commanded. They went through a list of houses that seemed to be playing both sides against the middle. The Archon’s house was no surprise to Bronwynn but some of the others were. Dorian was going to be disappointed in more of his peers.

Although Alexius and his son Felix had both been quite forthcoming when they had joined the Inquisition, Bronwynn had prevented Leliana, Josephine, Cassandra and Cullen from interrogating the pair. She knew that Felix was going to have to come to terms with his new status. No, he wasn’t a Warden and never would be; but he was still going to have to learn to deal with the after effects of having been blighted for so long. 

Alexius was grateful to her for having cured his son, having saved his life but he was Tevinter and a Magister at that. He would withhold information as a matter of course if he thought he could use it to gain an advantage.

Now it appeared he realized there was no advantage. How ready he was to turn on his country remained to be seen, but Bronwynn knew he was ready to give more away than he would have before Haven fell. She set her eyes on the youngest Alexius and smiled.

“Felix, you should work with Leliana and Dorian on this. Between the three of you it should be easy to figure out what information we didn’t already have. It will also give Leliana a different perspective on how to approach the houses we already know about..”

Bronwynn turned to Alexius with a conspirator's smile. 

“You, Josephine and Vivienne can tackle this from a different angle altogether,” she said slyly. “Let the Ambassador know which houses have the least power or pose the most threat.” He realized what she meant and seemed to sag in relief. She wasn’t going to make things difficult for him. He nodded his agreement and the two men left to speak with the respective parties. 

Bronwynn sat back in her cushioned chair and listened to them leave as Eleana tsked. They hadn’t touched the tea she had brought. They both heard the Commander before he spoke. Elena took her leave after dropping a short curtsy to the Commander.

“Bronwynn, my love,” Cullen said as he came up the stairs. “Just what is Felix supposed to tell our spymaster that she doesn’t already know?” He asked her before dropping a kiss on her raspberry lips. 

“You were eavesdropping?” She asked with false shock.

“Shamelessly even,” he admitted with his crooked grin, which she then kissed him again for.

“Leliana will be able to question Felix about the contacts his father had without rousing too much suspicion now. He’s expecting her to want to know as much as possible; it will also give him a chance to step out of his father’s shadow in this.” She stretched out her legs towards the fire as Cullen sat across from her and did the same. He was in pain again and it looked like today was a bad one. “She will sense the bitterness and anger he posses’, and will coax him into talking it out, which in turn will make him far more amenable to her suggestions later.”

“And just how will Vivienne and our Ambassador be able to utilize the information that Alexius gives them?” He asked with raised eyebrows. She laughed lightly before rising and heading to the warming station that Elena had set up inside the suite for the tea. The elf was quite creative when it came to her and Cullen’s comfort. 

“Gereon Alexius will be quite humble for a while longer yet; he is truly grateful for my cure.” She started speaking as she began making tea for her lover. 

“Yes, he has been quite helpful because of that, what has that to do with Josephine and Vivienne?” He asked her. She could hear the slight strain in his voice and knew he was fighting hard to ignore the pain. She added an elfroot mixture to the tea with a little extra honey to make it sweeter. 

“That, vhenan, is the beauty of it. Josephine knows what players in Tevinter we need to keep an eye on politically where Vivienne knows exactly what mages we need to keep in mind when planning anything in Tevinter,” she handed him a cup of the Orlesian Red tea he loved and sat down with her own Earl Grey.

“I feel like I’m still missing something here,” he said. 

“Dorian told me that after he and Alexius had their falling out Alexius lost track of him and his doings,” she explained. “He has no idea what Dorian had managed to get himself wrapped up in.” She took a sip of her tea and relaxed back into her seat.

“Which worked out better than Dorian had thought it would; especially as he wasn’t actively trying to hide what he was doing.” Bronwynn gave Cullen one of her sunny smiles.

“Indeed. If Alexius had known that Dorian was actively involved in one of the more active quote  _ rebel _ end quote groups, and that he was still in contact with Felix; he would likely have worked to make sure that worthy mage never left Tevinter.” She sighed and shrugged before continuing.

“I could be wrong there. Sister Lei says that before his wife and son were attacked by the Darkspawn Gereon was almost considered a rebel himself because of his politics.” Cullen raised his eyebrows once again, this time in surprise.

“So if he gives Vivienne and Josephine the same information Felix gives Leliana?” He queried in a leading fashion and she smiled because he knew her so well.

“We will know that Alexius is telling the truth. We will most likely be able to use both him and his son as agents within Tevinter. This will also be the confirmation we need to use this information in conjunction to what Dorian has given to bring Corypheus’ Venatori to their knees,” she replied with pride. He chuckled at the thought. 

“I wondered why you hadn’t had Leliana, Cassandra or I question them more thoroughly,” he admitted with his own pride in her. “You have become quite adept at The Game,” he verbally applauded. 

“The time I spent with Justinia was spent more in learning how to play than anything else,” a sadness entered her voice as she spoke. 

“She was determined that I be more adept at the game than Vivienne,” her gaze shifted to the fire. “That I be at least as good as Leliana.” Her voice had taken on the color of regret that he had heard from the Tower when she had outplayed one of the senior mages and felt badly for it.

“I am sure she had her reasons,” he said softly, in an attempt to comfort her. She turned her green gaze to his face and gave him a sad smile.

“I just didn’t play the game with her,” she answered. “I respected her too much to do that.” Cullen smiled with her and nodded. She had always been that way, she just hadn’t been very good at it in the Tower.

“You have learned to let others play for you,” he said. “That often works better for you,” he advised making her smile at him.

“Yes, that is one of the things Justinia said. ‘ _ Let those who want to play the game do so on your behalf. It is so much easier to only work with those you trust as well as like, in any case. _ ’ She quoted the late divine, although her accent was atrocious. 

“Inquisitor! You must stop her!” Cullen and Bronwynn leapt to their feet to run down the stairs as they heard Josephine’s accented voice shouting in the tower. Since the Nevarran woman was so very reserved they were instantly on guard. Both had weapons drawn as they took the stairs down two at a time. The fact that they had heard her through two closed doors and the entire tower had them practically leaping down the stairs.

The scene that greeted the couple was slightly confused. 

In the middle of the throne room facing the double doors into the main hall stood Josephine, arms akimbo facing away from them.. Leliana was standing fifteen feet in front of her with a long sword drawn facing off against Blackwall. He had his hands in the air and shoulder height. 

“Leliana! Stop it this instant!” Josephine shouted, her voice near panic.

“He isn’t worthy of you.” The Bard said vehemently. 

“That isn’t for you to decide,” Blackwall responded gravely. “Lady Montilyet makes that choice.” Bronwynn rolled her eyes and shook her head knowing that Leliana had narrowed her eyes dangerously. Leliana was very careful about who she befriended. Those she did call friend she was very protective of.

“Leliana, I won’t have you interfering with my love life; again!” The diplomat said with authority. 

“He is a  _ Warden _ ,” Leliana snarled. “He will break your heart!” 

“It is  _ my _ heart,” Josephine said. Bronwynn cleared her throat and stepped in verbally.

“Leliana, please lower your weapon. I’d rather my brother not have any extra holes in him.” She kept her tone light and the words bantering; but she also readied a telekinesis spell to move the bard should she prove more than stubborn.

The red haired spymaster finally turned away from the fighter to look at Josephine and Bronwynn. She blushed lightly when she realized she was drawing an audience when she hadn’t intended to.

She lowered her sword point down and stepped back, but stayed between the Ambassador and the Warden. Bronwynn walked over to her and took her arm, gently and firmly moving her out of the way so the two could talk.

“You have a problem with Blackwall?” Bronwynn asked her friend. Leliana snarled prettily before handing her a small scroll. Bronwynn had an idea she knew what it contained. She pocketed the scroll and tugged on Leliana’s arm to move them out of the throne room and up to her rookery.

She waved Cullen away to show she had it under control and he could go about his business. 

“I take it that Felix hasn’t approached you yet?” She asked as they wound up the stairs to Leliana’s rookery. They could hear the ravens calling when they reached the second floor of the tower. The library contained mostly Bronwynn’s books and she was always amazed at how many she had managed to acquire over the years.

“Why would he?” Leli asked while she fumed. She knew Bronwynn was trying to keep them from spreading gossip; but she was upset.

“He is ready to be gently grilled about his time in Minrathous,” Bronwynn answered. She held out her right arm and one of the ravens landed on her wrist with an affectionate caw. The raven was Mr. Hawkins and he preferred Bronwynn to anyone else. She nuzzled the bird’s feathery neck before putting him back on his perch.

“Ah,” the bard said with satisfaction. She had hated not being allowed to question the young man. “That will be a satisfying conversation at least,” the former Divine’s Left Hand said. The women had finally reached the top level of the tower and Leliana waved the agents in the rookery out. She was unsurprised when Bronwynn cast a silence spell over the room. 

“It took you long enough to find the information,” Bronwynn said after quickly reading the scrolled report. Leliana narrowed her blue eyes at the Inquisitor.

“And  _ you _ didn’t inform me from the start,” she accused. Bronwynn raised her head and looked her spymaster in the eye. She didn’t smile, yet her face wasn’t quite expressionless.

“Gordon Blackwall was a very dear friend, Left Hand,” she answered. “He was there for me when I thought I was alone.” Bronwynn raised her left hand to forestall any questions Leliana may want to ask. 

“When you sent me to find Blackwall, it was apparent that no one other than myself knew the man answering to that name wasn’t who I thought he was.  _ This _ Blackwall told me what happened; and he told me the truth.” She went on. “He is a Warden, even if he isn’t the Warden you and I both thought he was,” Bronwynn sighed deeply and sat upon the table where Leliana kept her maps.

“This man,” she held up the scroll. “Is dead.” Bronwynn burned the paper to ash in her hand. “He died the day he did the joining.”

“But Inquisitor!”

“No, Leliana. That is how it is. How it has always been, and for the Warden Order, how it  _ must remain _ !” She shook her head.

“There are many  _ other _ traditions that the Grey Warden Order has that  _ must _ change in order for it to remain relevant and to survive,” she sighed and shook her head sadly as she thought about the monumental task ahead of the secretive order. “Many secrets that  _ must _ be revealed; but  _ this _ one thing must be the same or the Order will fail when the next blight comes.” She let a moment pass as she thought of how to explain better.

“When we recruit new Wardens, we want them to still think it is an honor to serve.” Now she gave a small smile.

“The same is true of the Chantry, the Templar Order and even the Circle of Magi. They all need to make drastic changes.” Leliana reluctantly nodded to show her understanding.

“He betrayed those men, though!” she insisted. “How can you defend that?” The Orlesian Bard demanded.

“The man who did that wouldn’t have been good Warden material,” Bronwynn said softly. “My friend Gordon wouldn’t have recruited him,” she reached out and took her friend's hand in hers.

“Thom Rainer died. I promise you Sister Leliana; Blackwall is not the man in that report.” Leliana’s shoulders slumped in defeat. 

“If he hurts her ...” she promised.

“I’ll help you find him,’ Bronwynn swore in return. Leliana nodded and waved the Inquisitor off her table. Bronwynn laughingly hopped down and dismissed the silence spell. 

Bronwynn was unsurprised an hour later when the new Blackwall found her on the mages practice field. She was alone in at this time so his uncovered black head was noticeable. She stopped and walked to him. She could see the look of concern on his face and gave him a wry smile.

“Yes, I could have told you that Leliana would find out; but I already had a plan.” She said quietly when she was close enough no one would hear.

“What will she do?” He asked. Fear evident in his voice.

“Nothing.” Blackwall gave her a skeptical look. “Truly, Blackwall. I explained that the person she thought you were died during the Joining.” The soldier turned Warden still looked uncomfortable and frightened. 

“Look, I told you that Ranier died that day, that Gordon Blackwall couldn’t save him.” She put her hand on his muscular upper arm and squeezed gently. “Blackwall lived.” 

“M’Lady; how can you defend me after what I have done?”

“The man who committed that crime would never have made a good Warden.” She said for the second time that day. “Gordon Blackwall recruited a man that had changed. He had become something better,” she looked him in his eyes. Letting him see her sincerity. 

“It is unfortunate that he died, but it’s part of who we are as an Order. Some pay the ultimate sacrifice immediately; others later.” 

“Except now we are able to avoid the Calling all together,” he countered, bringing a sad smile to her oval face.

“Yes, but we can still be killed by the Darkspawn. I didn’t make us immortal,” she replied with dark humor. He gave an ironic chuckle and nodded.

“I am surprised that Josephine caught your eye,” Bronwynn said by way of changing the subject. The man she had given the title of Blackwall too blushed deeply, darkening his already tanned skin even more. 

“That is … never mind,” the man said before walking away. Bronwynn snorted softly as he did, even the back of his neck was red from his blush.

The Iron Bull stood in the center of the warrior sparring circle watching the spirit Cole carefully. So far the creature had managed to score on him five times where he’d only managed to return the favor twice. Six months with the Inquisition and he still wasn’t able to completely read the kid.

“That’s because I am a demon, The Iron Bull.” Cole said before disappearing once again. Bull stepped left and used his heft to knock the smaller creature down. The surprise of the move caused him to lose his concentration and become visible once again. The Iron Bull put the point of his blade against the spirits chest to score a third point. 

“Enough!” The Qunari spy said with a hearty laugh. “You’re getting better at that; but you’re supposed to concentrate on bringing out my fears,” he said to his friend as he helped him up. Cole had begun shaking his head as Bull spoke.

“You have enough to keep you awake, The Iron Bull. I do not want to add to the pain,” he said. Bull smiled in understanding and shook the young man’s shoulder in gratitude. Yes, he had Dorian to keep him occupied most nights; but it didn’t always stop the nightmares.

“Cole,” he suddenly asked the younger man. “Would it be okay for me to talk to you about the dreams?” Cole turned his head and looked up at the horned man and smiled gently. 

“Of course, The Iron Bull,” he answered. “I will help if I can.” The white haired thief with the horrible hat hummed happily as the two of them walked into the Herald’s Rest. As both men spent all their free time in the tavern no one was surprised when the large ox man moved as lightly as the thief. 

Sera waved to the Qunari, ignoring the spirit. Even after six months working with him she hadn’t gotten comfortable with him. It worried her that neither the Inquisitor nor Iron Bull; two people she actually trusted, weren’t the least bit worried about the demon. This was the only thing the Red Jenny had in common with Vivienne. Neither thought the demon calling itself Cole should be with the Inquisition.

The blond elf made her way down to the bar. She saw that Maryden had left her lute propped against the side of the fireplace. Sera made sure no one was watching before she quickly cut the strings on said instrument. It would give her a break from that creepy song. She plopped herself onto a stool in front of the bar and called for a beer. 

“It’s on Dorian,” she said before taking a swig. The dwarf running the bar merely shook his head and went about his work. He knew the Inquisitor would pay if they didn’t.

Cole waited as The Iron Bull made his way up to the tower room above the tavern. He knew the Qunari had been having trouble sleeping lately, and even knew what part of the problem was. The Inquisitor.

“Tell me Cole, how does this work, anyway?” Bull asked the slight spirit.

“I  _ Listen _ to you,  _ hear _ the pain and I help shake it loose.” Bull gave a soft laugh as he thought about the image that brought. “I won’t make you forget, because you don’t want to forget.” Cole was confused on that point and it showed in his voice.

“Forgetting makes it easy to make the same mistake, Kid.” Cole shrugged to himself. He wasn’t sure why it was so important, but he wouldn’t make the Qunari forget the things that caused the pain. He would make it so the pain was smaller; small enough to float away on it’s own.

 

Cullen sat behind his desk in his office above the barracks with his head in his left hand as he listened to Knight Templar Barris go over his reports on the last few missions he had undertaken for the Inquisition. He was going to suggest that Barris be raised to Knight-Commander; the man was truly dedicated and understood what it meant to  _ be _ a Templar. This latest mission proving it beyond a doubt for Cullen.

Cullen heard the door to the keep itself open and frowned until he saw Loudon, Bronwynn’s butler step through with a covered tray. He held up his hand to silence Barris.

“Loudon?” 

“M’Lord Commander,” the butler bowed gracefully over the tray before placing it on the desk between the two men. Cullen snorted laughter at the haughty reply.  Barris looked uncomfortable and Cullen couldn’t blame him.

“What are you bringing, and why?” Cullen asked the man. He knew the servant wouldn’t normally bring anything to the barracks tower by the front gate unless there was a specific reason.

“It was noticed that you weren’t present at luncheon. M’Lady Bronwynn asked me to bring you and Ser Barris comestibles so you wouldn’t starve.” The tray; when revealed, held two very large sandwiches. From the smell they were roast beef and onion. Loudon placed one of the plates in front of Cullen and the other in front of Barris. Now Cullen could see the white cheese that had been melted over the meat and caramelized onions. There was a small bowl of juice that also smelled of beef. 

“Um, Loudon?” Barris questioned hesitantly.

“Yes, Ser Barris.” 

“What are these, wedge type things?” The Templar asked with trepidation.

“Cook says they are potatoes that have been peeled and sliced then fried in oil until crispy.” The butler’s expression never changed, his voice never betrayed any emotion; but even Cullen thought he was laughing at them. 

“Loudon, are they tasty?” Barris asked again. This time he gave the servant a glare as he asked the question. Loudon nodded to the Knight.

“Very tasty, Ser Knight,” he replied before placing the teapot and teacups on the desk and taking his leave. 

“He doesn’t normally bring you lunch out here, does he?” Barris asked. Cullen snorted laughter before making himself a cup of tea.

“Most likely the Inquisitor wanted to make sure I got the doctored tea,” Cullen answered.  Barris looked skeptically at the teapot.

“It only has elfroot in it, Templar. Perfectly safe.” The older man said with a small laugh. The younger Knight nodded in relief and poured his own cup. They each took a bite of the sandwich and moaned in appreciation. They didn’t resume speaking until the food was gone.

“Okay, I think we were at…” Cullen said after a few minutes of silence had passed. Once again the two men went on to discuss the Templar’s missions. 

  
  


**The Next Day**

 

“Of all the Templars who joined us, he has proven that he most fully supports the Templar ideals.” The blond Inquisition Commander said with passion. “Templars are meant to help both mages and non. He looks for the truth, finds the facts.” Cullen pulled out several reports to emphasize his meaning. “Barris is doing what I believe the Templar Order was formed to do. I believe Barris would make a good Knight-Commander of the Templars.” Josephine and Leliana were unused to hearing this degree of emotion from him. It wasn’t that he was passionless, he was just normally very reserved. 

“Josie?” Leliana asked. The Ambassador to the Inquisition nodded to the spymaster. Cullen had no idea what the redhead had asked; but he was beginning to understand that others felt the same confusion when he and his mage conversed.

“He  _ is _ only the second son; but that actually works in our favor.” She passed a short stack of papers over to the spymaster. 

“I have found only a small number of rumors that would be to his detriment; but if portrayed correctly…” Cullen shook his head and held his hand up.

“I can see where this is going,” he interrupted. “But we can’t make him Knight-Divine.” Josephine gave him a smoldering look for interrupting her.

“But why not?” Leliana asked in her lilting Orlesian voice.

“That would require we have an actual Divine. We don’t have a Grand Cleric, much less a Divine. That being the case Knight-Commander is the highest rank we can give him and have it stick...and trust me Ambassador; whatever misdeeds he may have to his name will be all but forgotten with this promotion.” 

Leliana narrowed her green eyes at the blond ex-Templar in wonder. He felt her looking and turned to face her; his blue eyes meeting her own without any flinching. Leliana smiled to herself with satisfaction. So few people were able to meet the gaze of the Left Hand straight on that it pleased her to know those who did. This man cared not what position she had held.

“What if we could?” She asked him. He frowned.

“Explain?” 

“Let us get the Inquisitor. I think she may have a few ideas of her own on this.” The Left Hand side stepped as she moved to one of the walls and pulled a bellpull to summon a servant. The young man who answered nodded and took off at a trot to fetch the Inquisitor. It didn’t take as long as they had thought, apparently the woman in question was walking towards the War Room already.

Cullen quickly explained what he wanted to the Inquisitor; to promote Templar Knight Barris to Knight-Commander. Bronwynn nodded at each point he made and then voiced her agreement.

“Yet we could do more,” Leliana purred.

“Dearest Leliana, without a Divine we can’t.” She held up her hand to explain.

“The Templar Order is far too broken at this point. Making Barris Knight-Commander is the  _ first _ step to healing the Order.” Cullen smiled when he realized Bronwynn understood far better than he had thought she would.

“But I do agree we could do more,” she said with a smile that matched Leliana’s.

“How?” Cullen asked.

“We could raise Vivienne to Grand Enchanter.” Her three counselors were silent with shock for a long moment.

“She is the perfect choice for several very compelling reasons.” Bronwynn went on.

“First, she is the defacto leader of the remaining Loyalist mages. That means that she will have the backing of the largest group of 

_ legitimate _ mages in Southern Thedas.” She waited while the other considered that before continuing.

“Vivienne knows The Game and plays it almost as well as Leliana.” She raised an eyebrow. “She won’t be played as easily as Fiona was.” Leliana had nodded with that point. Josephine narrowed her eyes as she thought about it.

“The woman also has what so many of the  _ rebel _ mages complained they couldn’t get.  _ Freedom _ .” Now Cullen interrupted her.

“What do you mean?” 

“She wasn’t confined to the Circle; even before she became an Enchanter. She is Duke Bastien’s mistress. She helped raise his son; was best friend's with the man’s wife for Maker’s sake.” Bronwynn said.

“She was made Magical Advisor to the Empress  _ before _ she was to be named First Enchanter of Montsimmard.” Bronwynn smiled. “She has a wing in her lover’s house, has her own quarters in the Winter Palace as well as the Imperial House.”

“She actually gives advice to the Empress as well as the Duke,” Leliana said with dawning understanding.

“So,” Cullen said with his own glimmer. “She can actually be the example the mages need to gain that kind of trust from their First Enchanters!” 

Bronwynn nodded. 

“Make Barris Knight-Commander and her Grand Enchanter; I’m sure she will have an inkling of who among the Loyalist mages would make good examples as First Enchanters. Have Barris work with the two of them and it becomes clear that Templars and Mages are working  _ together _ as they were meant to do from the beginning.”

“If we are unable to make Barris a Knight’s-Divine, how can we raise Vivienne to Grand Enchanter?” Josephine asked with true confusion.

“The mages who are here represent all the mages that  _ want _ peace.” Cullen answered for the Inquisitor. “And our Inquisitor as well as her Inquisition has proven they value the mages as  _ allies _ .”  

“I imagine Fiona will have something to say about this.” Josephine pointed out. Bronwynn snorted a short laugh.

“I have a feeling that after everything they went through, the majority of the ‘ _ rebel _ ’ mages aren’t going to argue with anything I happen to say about it.”

“It would still be prudent to involve her in the decision,” Josephine pointed out. Leliana made a soft sound of agreement. Cullen simply shrugged his broad shoulders. 

“The three of you are better at politics than I am.” He admitted. 

“Don’t sell yourself short, Commander.” Leliana said with a smile. “I have seen how you maneuver our Noble guests into providing actual support.” All the women laughed lightly when the man scowled and blushed- ruining the effect he was going for.

“Face it Commander. There was more than one reason Cassandra wanted you to be Commander of the Inquisition's Forces.

“All this will have to wait,” Josephine said somberly, bringing the group back to the current crisis. 

“What are we expecting at Halamshiral?” Bronwynn asked. “I know Celine fairly well...as well as one can know the Empress.” She went on. “I’m not so familiar with Gaspard or Brialia.”

Both Leliana and Josephine waved to the small seating area by a fireplace for the three of them to get comfortable. Cullen realized it was now time for gossip so took his leave. There were a thousand things for him to put into place to get their forces ready for both the march to Halamshiral as well as for the ball itself. 


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts. That's really what this chapter is because I had to address it and mostly as it's played. I apologize for covering it almost play for play but it was needed. I promise there will be goodies in the next chapter as a reward for you all putting up with the chapter and it's lateness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A brief reminder that I own nothing of DA it's all Bioware and EA.

**Chapter 44**

 

The Inquisitor, her Commander, Ambassador and Spymaster entered the Courtyard of the Winter Palace as if the ball were in their honor; not for the Empress. Bronwynn had her hand on Cullen’s arm while Leliana and Josephine bracketed them. The lesser nobles that littered the Garden failed miserably at their attempts to nonchalantly maneuver closer to eavesdrop.

“I must say even the blasted hangers on at Skyhold know better than to be so obvious about their curiosity.” The blond haired, blue eyed Commander quipped pleasantly, eliciting giggles out of all three women. 

Behind the Inquisitor and her Council came her Inner Circle. 

Cassandra; wearing the new uniform that Josephine and Dorian had designed for the Inquisition as formal wear was leading, followed by Blackwall, Vivienne, Dorian, Cole, Serah, The Iron Bull, Varric, and Solas. All were wearing the distinctive and simple red Military cut shirts and black pants with the discreet Inquisition insignia on the left breast of the uniform.

Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons met the Inquisitor halfway through the Courtyard. Bronwynn returned his bow before falling into step beside him.

Bronwynn knew a little of his history thanks to Josephine and Leliana. There had been a time when he actually supported his cousin’s reign; it hadn’t lasted for too long as he had been disillusioned by her handling of the elves in 9:40 Dragon and her quasi-diplomatic approach to the Mage-Templar war. Having been born the eldest child to the prior Emperor he felt he should be the one to take over ruling the Empire. 

So, when he made the expected proposal of handing her the Imperial Army if only she backed him in his coup, she made sure to keep her answer as neutral as possible. Especially as he was rather ham handed when he also cast aspersions on the  _ Ambassador _ Briala.

“I am certain she intends something duplicitous with all her spies running about the palace.” he sneered haughtily behind his plain mask. The compassion spirit that travelled with the mage stirred slightly; whispering about the man’s own double-dealing activities. The spirit of Knowledge remarked on his  _ seemingly _ clumsy tactics. Once this was brought to the Inquisitor’s attention she couldn’t stop her mind racing at the implications. Bronwynn sent her Advisors in ahead of her while she spoke with her Inner Circle. She now had an idea of what she needed to do.   

“Sara; I’m relying on any  _ friends _ you may have inside to pass us what intel they have.” Bronwynn pointedly looked towards the Grand Duke’s retreating back and arrogant gait. “Let’s make sure we have all the dirt we can get on the major players.” Sera nodded before sidling off. 

“I suppose you expect me to finagle information out of the nobles?” Vivienne sighed with false weariness while smiling mischievously.

“I expect you to do what you are best at.” Bronwynn answered with the same degree of mirth. 

“And that would be?”

“Creating catspaws.” Bronwynn answered. This made the dark skinned Enchanter laugh lightly before linking her arm through Dorian’s.

“I know exactly who I need to speak to first, dearest.” She exclaimed with glee. “Dorian, be a dear and pretend he’s both handsome and interesting.”  Dorian snorted a laugh as he matched her step for step.

“Meaning he’s neither. What  _ do _ I have to work with?” he asked his peer. Her answer was lost to the surrounding chatter as they headed into the Palace.

Shaking her head at the two nobles she turned to the others.

“I don’t have any extra instructions; what we discussed on the way here is good. Just be careful.” she said. Cassandra, Solas, and The Iron Bull nodded. Cole looked around, confusion clear on his face.

“Stick by Bull or Solas if you need an anchor, Cole” Bronwynn said; touching his shoulder to get his attention. 

“You could give them information they need if you stay unnoticed.” Solas nodded his agreement and sighed in relief. He had wondered just how she would deal with Cole’s particular abilities.

“I like that idea, Bronwynn. Thank you.” Bronwynn squeezed his shoulder before the rest headed in.

As Bronwynn followed Gaspard down the steps onto the actual dance floor she almost stopped when the announcer began her introduction. 

“Senior Enchanter of the Circle of Ferelden, Commander of the Grey of Orlais, Knights Divine to Divine Justinia IV, Herald of Andraste, Lady Inquisitor Bronwynn Amell.” Bronwynn thought she heard Sera choke back a laugh at the list of titles she herself had forgotten were attached to her. After that long list she was grateful she had instructed the man to only name the highest ranking of her team. Bronwynn grinned evilly when Cassandra stopped the crier at her third middle name, though.

Standing beside Grand Duke Gaspard, Bronwynn’s lithe form gave the Imperial soldier a harsher look than he actually had. Next to her he looked unkempt as well as brutish. His reply to his Empress was less than intelligent, yet no one was surprised. Gaspard played The Game because it had to be played; but he appeared to play poorly.

“Your presence is like a cool breeze on a summer night.” Bronwynn thanked the Empress for her welcome; knowing it was merely a single step in the woman’s literal game plan. 

“Tell me, how do you find the Winter Palace?”

“It’s beauty is beyond compare, Your Majesty.” the mage answered with only a hint of a smile. 

“Please, enjoy the sights, we look forward to watching you dance.” Bronwynn gave a deep bow before leaving the dance floor. She spent the next hour moving throughout the ballroom and foyer speaking with the nobles within. Sera pointed her in the direction of several elven ‘servants’ she should speak with, while Leliana warned her of Morrigan, the apostate witch. Josephine passed on her advice as to whom to speak with and when to do so. 

The two maids Sera had mentioned reluctantly passed on the information about the agent who hadn’t picked up their reward; as well as the clue that had been left for Briala. They also suggested Bronwynn seek out two other ‘servants’. Bronwynn heard them whispering that the others had been right about the Inquisitor after she thanked them for their risk. 

This information led her to the Hall of Heros where she learned even more interesting facts. Here Varric was surrounded by the Council of Heralds, who were clamoring for autographs as Bronwynn snuck by to avoid anyone trying to pressure her into assisting them. Hearing about missing servants from the elven spies of Briala’s as well as from several people who were upset over the lack of refreshments piqued her curiosity more than meeting the Grand Duke’s uncle. 

Bronwynn eavesdropped on two male elves who were talking about something happening in the servant’s quarters which had her frowning in concern. It seemed no one was coming back from the area and that didn’t bode well at all.

Josephine, Leliana, Cullen and she had come up with a broad plan should she need a distraction to allow her to disappear from the party for a short time. To that end the redhead mage wended her way through the throng back to the ballroom to catch sight of her lover surrounded by nobles and looking quite grim because of it. She almost burst into hearty laughter when she watched an older Count surreptitiously pinch the Commanders very firm buttock. His scandalized ‘Did you just pinch my bottom?’ was the perfect foil for their next step.

Bronwynn smiled winningly at the men and women who surrounded her blond haired lover as she stepped in to converse with him and save him from their attentiveness for a brief moment.. He scowled at her when she teased him about those becoming his hangers on.

“I have no idea who these people are.” He retorted, which had his mage giggling aloud. 

“Are you not enjoying yourself, Commander?” she asked him.

“At this point the headache I am developing is preferable to their company.” he retorted. 

“Would you like to dance?” she asked him lightly.

“No, thank you,” he answered and she burst into a giggle with how rote it sounded. “Ah! Maker, forgive me, my love.” he groused softly. “I am saying it automatically now.” He took her hand in his and bowed over it with a flourish that had the surrounding onlookers gasping in awe. 

“I would be honored to save a dance for you, Inquisitor” he said loudly and formally. He then turned her hand palm up and placed a warmly intimate kiss upon her wrist in a most romantic fashion. Bronwynn’s smile changed from amused to indulgent and those watching began to pantomime feeling faint. 

“You have been taking lessons from Josephine,” she whispered softly when he pulled her close before kissing her ever so gently on the lips. 

“Of course,” he answered before once again bowing before her. There was now a flurry of sound that rushed away from them as speculation ran rampant. 

Leliana nodded at the Inquisitor as the ‘news’ reached her. There was now enough distraction to allow her and a small group to disappear for a short while. 

Bronwynn, Sera, Cole and Blackwall quickly made their way out to the Guest Gardens. Once there they stealthily maneuvered themselves to the higher floor and into Grand Library. Sera and Cole made short work of the locks while Bronwynn and Blackwall were able to find several letters and notes that implied all three major players here were aware of what the others were up to. 

“Gaspard wants control of whatever weapon Briala has; Sera be sure to get on that. I want to know what it is.” Bronwynn said in exasperation. She had three spymasters and she didn’t know what the Elf Briala could have that could be so devastating? 

“It appears that servants aren’t coming back from the servants quarters,” Blackwall said and Bronwynn grunted at the confirmation he’d found. 

“Not good.” Bronwynn voiced as Sera gave a soft shriek of anger.

“Here,” Cole said, handing Sera a letter. She read it quickly then handed it to Bronwynn.

“Well, the Empress knows her cousin is planning his coup tonight,” Sera sniped. Bronwynn shook her head at the ridiculousness of it all. Celine thought she would be able to prevent the coup by keeping Morrigan in site. 

“We’re still missing something.” Bronwynn said in frustration.

Before the others could respond they heard the bells for the first dance and split up to make their way to the ballroom once again. Bronwynn took a little extra time to check the scattered tables before she made her way out.

“Well, if it isn’t Inquisitor Bronwynn Amell. What does bring Your Worship to the Winter Palace I wonder.” Bronwynn turned and waited for the elegantly dressed and ever so slightly arrogant Witch of the Wilds. 

“It is a mystery, that.” Bronwynn quipped in return. “We may never know for sure.” She smiled at the Witch of the Wilds and returned her brief hug.

“Of all the places we could have met again, did you expect it to be here?” The dark haired mage asked as the two turned to walk down the Grand Foyer.

“Truly? No,” Bronwynn answered brightly. “Of course, what time we spent in the Kokari Wilds dodging Darkspawn and useless Templars didn’t actually lend itself to much thought for the future.” Bronwynn said with a fond smile. “It was nice having a competent mage on my side for a change.” she reminisced.  

“I hope we find ourselves on the same side in this …” she paused infinitesimally for the right word. “Game.” she said with her slight sneer of humor.

“That is a sentiment I can get with,” Bronwynn said as she turned to face the former apostate witch. 

“I found myself dealing with a would be assassin. From Tevinter.” Morrigan told the redhead. Bronwynn shook her head and let out a breath. 

“I don’t suppose he said anything before you turned him into a toad?” Bronwynn asked lightly. The dark clad witch smiled and handed the Inquisitor a key. 

“Sadly, no. He had this key on him. I am unsure where it leads and I can’t leave the Empress’ side for long; it is far too dangerous for either her or I.” Bronwynn sighed and nodded.

“I have an idea where it leads.” Bronwynn said before she reached out and touched Morrigan’s elbow as the woman passed her. “Watch the Empress carefully. She’s playing at a disadvantage this time.” Bronwynn warned. The shapeshifter nodded and moved away with her usual confidence. 

Bronwynn found Cassandra and asked her to take a group into the servants wing, handing her the key. The Seeker snorted at the need for sneaking, but did as asked. Bronwynn took the time to make her way into the ballroom to keep herself in view of the nobles. 

“Inquisitor! Dance with me, no one can hear us speaking while we dance.” Grand Duchess Florianne said. Her Orlesian accented common nearly flawless and full of charm. Bronwynn bowed deeply to the older blond woman, holding out a hand to her.

“May I have this dance, Your Grace?” she asked with her own dose of charm. She led the older woman to the floor and into the leading steps of the round. Florianne didn’t waste time baiting the Inquisitor. Her attempts were almost as ham-handed as her brother’s; and considering Florianne was considered a true master of The Game Bronwynn had to wonder why.

“What do you know of our civil war?” She asked boldly.

“Orlais’ war is Thedas’ war.” Bronwynn replied, putting the  _ ball _ in the Duchess’ court once again. She intimated that she wished to support the Empress and not her brother. Yet the whole conversation rang false.

“The security of the Empire is at stake! We both want continuity, do we not?” she intoned with feeling.

“Is that what we both want?” Bronwynn asked, sounding truly curious. She watched as Florianne’s golden brown eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Good she was off guard and unsure. These Orlesian’s wore their masks as if they were meant to allow them to be completely honest. They had forgotten how to read facial expressions and body language. 

“I can only hope so, Inquisitor. You are a curiosity to many, and to many others a concern.” 

“Which am I to you, Grand Duchess?” Bronwynn asked as they maneuvered through a particularly complicated set of turns. 

“I will be honest, you are both. Yet with all the intrigue and subterfuge it is hard to know who in the court can be trusted, no?” Bronwynn felt the woman attempt to wrest control of the dance from her in order to trip her up; yet her many years dancing with the darkspawn kept her from falling into the trap.

“I trust the Inquisition, Your Grace.” Bronwynn said as she deftly lay the taller woman into a recline to end the dance. By now they were the only two on the floor and there was a thunderous applause as Bronwynn lifted her and walked her to the stairs.

“It can’t have escaped your notice that Gaspard has managed to sneak men into the Palace. You should check the Royal Wing, Inquisitor. Gaspard’s hirling is there. I’m sure you’ll find it interesting.” she said hurriedly. Bronwynn turned sharply to her bowing deeply as she replied.

“I’m certain there are many interesting things to learn this night, Your Grace.” Bronwynn gave a brief bow before heading back up the stairs, leaving Florianne to walk away with no clear answer. 

“Were you dancing? With Florianne?” Josephine asked with joyful shock as she approached the  Inquisitor. 

“We’ll have to take you dancing more often.” Leliana quipped with her full pink lips in a mischievous smile.

“You’ll be the talk of The Court for ages.” Josephine practically crowed. 

“Forget the dance, Cassandra and the others have returned; I hope they’ll explain the reports of fighting.” Cullen said seriously as he waved the Seeker over. Only Bronwynn caught the two women sticking their tongues out at him. She kept her face serious, however. Her lover really hated these types of events.

“It’s a good thing I didn’t take Sera with me.” Cassandra said, her Nevarran accent thicker due to her anger. “Most of the elves are dead, Inquisitor.” she announced softly. Bronwynn kept her face fixed in its mask of pleasantry by sheer dint of will. 

“We found a dagger with the Chalons crest upon it.” She went on. “It was in the body of an emissary for the Council of Heralds.” Bronwynn laid her head to the right as she processed this information. She knew that Gaspard had been threatening the Council but that seemed a bit over the top for him. 

“ _ Ambassador _ Briala confirmed that Gaspard has been sneaking both Chevaliers and mercenaries in through the west wing. Bronwynn gave brief chuckle that was echoed by her advisors. The Inquisition was using the east wing. 

“I have a feeling Celine and Briala are expecting Gaspard to fail at his coup. Neither are taking into account the assassination attempt Celine has been warned of.” She gave a slow sigh before speaking again.

“What did the Duchess have to say?” Leliana asked.

“She too points at her brother, and even gave me a lead on a golden platter.” Bronwynn looked at her advisors with raised brows.

“You think she’s involved?” Josephine asked. 

“The two of them are thick as thieves; but she’d turn on him in an instant to save herself.” Leliana said thoughtfully.

“I am unsure exactly what she is pointing towards, but it feels like a trap for me.” Bronwynn said, her uneasiness showing in the words if not her expression and tone. 

“We don’t have to save Celine,” Leliana pointed out. “Corypheus wants chaos; and with Celine on the throne we could still get that.” Bronwynn nodded as she listened. Cassandra and Josephine both giving shocked gasps.

“What are you saying?” Josephine asked. Cullen answered,

“She’s right. We need a strong leader in charge of the Imperial army and Gaspard is that.” He pointed out. 

“Briala would be a good choice, as well. She’d bring much needed change by unifying the elves.”

“She’d never be able to lead openly. She’d have to lead from behind the scenes.” Cullen pointed out. Leliana shrugged.

“With the right information at our fingertips we could be sure she had that opportunity.” Bronwynn laughed sardonically.

“Be honest, Sister Lei. You want control over whomever I choose.” The spymaster gave a shallow bow in response.

“I’ll give it some thought; meanwhile get me into the Royal Wing. I need to find the evidence against Florianne quickly.”

“If she’s involved, you mean.” Josephine said softly. Bronwynn looked at the Antivan with a look that said she couldn’t be that naive.

Bronwynn, Cassandra, Varric and Bull met in the upper floor of the Royal Wing. 

“Since I didn’t pick that lock; why was it already opened?” Varric asked. Bronwynn and the others frowned since he’d gotten there first. 

“Well that isn’t foreboding at all.” The Qunari said flatly. Cassandra laughed aloud which caused Varric to look at her strangely. 

“Okay, okay. Let’s get going. I am ready for this part to be over.” Bronwynn said as they moved up the stairs in front of them. 

The four moved quickly through the eerily silent hallways. The noise of the ball couldn’t even be heard from below them. The scream that came from the room in front of them seemed shockingly loud as it echoed briefly. 

Bull kicked open the door to let Cassandra in. An elf woman had done the screaming. The door bursting in stopped the Harlequin that was attacking her, allowing Cassandra to kick them out the window. 

“Pardon our rudeness for cutting in on your dance,” Bronwynn said as she helped the elf up. The woman laughed nervously before answering.

“No, your are quite forgiven.” The woman was still shaking.

“How did you get in?” Varric asked the shaken elf.

“The door was unlocked, why are you here?”

“Attempting to stop an assassination.” Bronwynn answered. “Looks like I succeeded at one.” Bronwynn said with a smile. “What are you doing here alone?” 

“I was left a message to come here,” she gasped in shock and then outrage. “Briala told me to come, I should have known better than to trust her!” The elf went on to tell them how Briala had helped Celine when the Alienage in Halamshiral had been razed. 

“I am the only one left who knows of her relationship with the Empress. She had to have sent me here to be killed.” The girl insisted. Bronwynn didn’t contradict her, although she felt there was so much more going on. 

“Would you be willing to testify to this, in public?” Bronwynn asked. The girl quickly agreed. Cassandra gave her a token that would identify her to Cullen as needing protection and sent her to him.

As the group began to split up to search the rest of the rooms they heard cursing coming from another room. From the sounds of it someone had been tricked and was angry at the humiliation. Bull entered the room to find a very naked Chevalier tied to a bed. He managed to keep from laughing long enough to get the man’s word he would testify against Celine; who was responsible for his predicament. He also untied him and made sure he found his armor. 

The others found more blackmail information and Bronwynn sent Varric back to get it all to Leliana. He groused about it; but moved as fast as a dwarf could. 

Bronwynn stood in one of the hallways that were under repair and wondered aloud about the damage when Cassandra commented on the fine Ferelden cursing she heard from behind one of the doors. 

“Of course you’d be impressed with the cursing Seeker,” Bull commented as Bronwynn cautiously opened the door. She could see the faint scar of a rift in the middle of the small private garden that was also under repair. She also saw a half dozen Venatori and Harlequin waiting to attack; and there behind them all was the Ferelden soldier, still cursing the Orlesians quite prettily.

“Inquisitor! You are so hard to read, I wasn’t sure if you had taken my bait or not.” Grand Duchess Florianne said from the balcony opposite the Inquisition crew. 

“I’m afraid I am a bit occupied for another dance, Your Grace.” Bronwynn said pleasantly. She used the moment to bow, placing her left hand behind her back as she powered the Anchor to open the rift. Cassandra and Bull surreptitiously moved to flank her, both making it harder for the archers and easier for Bronwynn. 

“No one would ever suspect me of assassinating my dear cousin. Imagine their surprise when I do.” Florianne’s pride in her plan would have surprised Bronwynn if she hadn’t already suspected it.

“So, what? Corypheus takes over and you get to rule Orlais while he plays god?” Bull asked with a laugh. 

“He’s going to be disappointed, Your Grace. Again.” Bronwynn said right after. 

“I will not disappoint my Lord. Too bad you won’t be there to see the end of the ball, my dear Inquisitor. Kill her, and bring me her left hand for Lord Corypheus.” The Duchess turned and sauntered off; not hearing the rift as it burst open and the demons began pouring out. 

Though there were only three of them; Bronwynn, Bull and Cassandra were quick to disperse the demons as well as the agents working for Florianne. Varric returned just as Bronwynn sealed the rift. 

“Well, shit!” he exclaimed at having missed the fighting. 

“Were those demons? Those were demons, weren’t they. Are they gone?” The Ferelden mercenary jabbered as his bonds were cut and he stood.

“They were indeed demons; and no, they won’t be back.” Bronwynn answered. 

“What is a Ferelden doing in Halamshiral?” Cassandra asked.

“Duke Gaspard paid me and my troop to come help with his coup. This is a fine way to avoid paying a bill.” He answered. Bronwynn and Bull snorted laughter.

“I don’t think this had to do with paying a bill,” Bronwynn said with laughter.

“Well, I suppose not. Can’t believe we came all this way for him to cheat us, though.” He told the Inquisitor all he knew about Gaspard and his plans. It took everything the four of them had, not to burst into laughter. 

Cullen met her as she re-entered the ballroom mere moments before Celine was set to give her speech regarding the peace talks. 

“Thank the Maker,” she shook her head to interrupt him.

“Stall Florianne; she’s the assassin.” Cullen gave the signal for their forces to move in and prevent anyone leaving the room. Bronwynn took the shortest path to reach the treacherous Duchess; across the empty dance floor.

“We owe the court one more show, Your Grace.” Bronwynn said loudly. “Smile, Your Grace; you wouldn’t want them to think you had lost control now, would you? Smile.” 

“Who wouldn’t be delighted to speak with you Inquisitor?” The Orlesian said with a smile. 

“I seem to recall your saying ‘All I need to do is keep you out of the ballroom long enough to strike’.” Florianne eye’s flared in barely checked panic as all the nobles pressed forward to watch the next dance.

“I wondered what I had done to fall from your good graces, Your Grace. Finding you had framed your brother for the murder of a council emissary I figured it had to be something quite trivial.” Bronwynn maneuvered herself so she was between Florianne and the open ballroom while the Inquisition soldiers and Celine’s few Chevaliers blocked off the stairs on either side of her.

“It was an ambitious plan, Grand Duchess. Celine, Gaspard, the entire Council of Heralds. All your enemies under one roof at the same time.”

“You do not seriously think anyone believes your wild tales, do you Inquisitor?” Florianne asked with what was clearly desperate humor. The murmurs of the partygoers was nearly loud enough to drown her out.

“That would be a matter for a judge to decide, cousin.” Empress Celine Valmont said in response to the Duchess’ statement. No one could doubt the anger and disgust at the woman’s actions.

“Gaspard? You cannot believe this? You know I would never..” She broke off as Gaspard and the elf Briala turned their backs on her to walk away. Physically as well as socially and politically distancing themselves from her.

“Face it Florianne,” Bronwynn said with an insufferable arrogance. “You lost this ages ago; you’re just the last one to know.” The guards stepped forward to take the fallen Duchess into custody as the woman fell to her knees sobbing. Bronwynn turned to Celine to speak.

“Your Imperial Majesty. We should talk, elsewhere.” Celine nodded regally and Bronwynn moved up the steps to follow her. Gaspard and Briala quickly falling in behind the two of them, bickering like the spoiled children they truly were. When Celine joined in the argument Bronwynn slashed her hand in front of them with a barely concealed exclamation. 

“Enough!” she just kept from shouting. “So concerned with winning this damned game over one another you let that woman outplay you all.” Bronwynn snapped. 

“Don’t think for a minute she wasn’t getting tips from Corypheus.” Bronwynn went on before any of them could react. “He’s been playing you all for years.” Bronwynn placed her hands on her hips and shook her head as she looked between the three leaders.

“Gaspard claims he hates the game but plays it very well. He managed to do more than sneak in his chevaliers. He got an  _ entire _ merc company in right under your noses.” She said to Briala and Celine. “He actually might have been able to pull off his coup, Your Grace; especially since your own chevaliers are nowhere to be found!” 

This information seemed to catch the Empress off guard as she immediately looked around, eyes widening as she realized she did  _ not _ see her personal guard on the balcony. 

“Briala managed to replace your entire serving staff with her agents. Now unless you have an Eluvian hidden somewhere in this building, Empress; she managed that  _ before _ the party even started.” Bronwynn leaned forward so she was nose to mask with the Empress and her voice became very deadly.

“Your insistence on sticking to your own agenda and  _ not _ listening to what was going on around you caused over seventy elves to  _ die _ at the hands of the Venatori Florianne brought in.” Celine, Gaspard and Briala all heard the underlying threat in the Inquisitor’s voice. 

Bronwynn stepped back and once again looked at Orlais’ leaders. 

“For all that you play the game far more beautifully than you are given credit for, Your Grace; you are easily outmaneuvered.” He narrowed his eyes at the woman and his lips began to twist into a superior sneer when she went on to tell him how he had been played by Corypheus, Celine, Briala and even his sister. 

“At least Celine is intelligent enough to know she can trust no one with the way she plays us all against one another.” She sneered at the older man before turning to Briala. 

“You spoke to my people of wanting to better the lives of the elves, yet you only present yourself as the option for being made a noble.” Bronwynn snorted cruel laughter at the elf. “It would be an empty title,  _ Ambassador _ .” Celine and Gaspard both studiously looked away from the elven spymaster.

“ _ You _ started as a servant. It would be better to raise one of the many merchant class elves to noble status. They at least would have a  _ real _ income to back up their new status; not having to rely on their former lover to keep them in style.” The ginger elf reeled as if struck. 

“The only way this country is going to make it through this crisis with the Rifts and the Darkspawn attempting to become a god is if the three of you find a way to actually work together.” Bronwynn, who had left her face bare for all to see finally dropped the mask she had been wearing that whole night. 

Anger, pain, fear and desperation mingled on her normally blank face.

“Gaspard has the army, and he’s a damn fine General. Celine has the heart of the nobles, and even most of the merchant class as well. Briala’s network of elves throughout Thedas is rivaled only by Red Jenny; she could prevent so many of the problems that Orlais is having right this minute with her elves.” She was breathing heavily with her impassioned speech. She looked each of the leaders in the eye. She didn’t speak for several long moments, letting her words sink in. 

The three Orlesians finally began to look at one another and their body language clearly said they were honestly thinking about what they could accomplish together.

“I just need to know the Inquisition can count on Orlais to take care of Orlais.” Bronwynn said when they all three looked at her finally. “That’s all.” 

It took a few minutes more for the three of them to make their decision but they did finally agree that they could work together. Bronwynn managed, somehow; to keep from setting them ablaze for their stupidity.

Morrigan watched the Inquisitor as she leaned her hip against the balcony overlooking the lake outside the Winter Palace. The redhead had not a hair out of place nor a single crease in her dress uniform despite all that had transpired that long evening. 

The moon hung low in the sky to her right, giving her skin a pale glow, making the mage appear almost ethereal.

“The nobles raise glass after glass in your name and yet I find you here away from the revelrie.” Morrigan quipped as she stepped out onto the balcony to join her fellow mage. Bronwynn turned to face her with a smile.

“They ran out of punch; quite scandalous.” she answered humorously. Morrigan laughed in return.

“Indeed. The Empress will never recover, I’m sure.” the dark haired woman responded. “I wanted to be the first to tell you. Celine has named me liason to the Inquisition.” Bronwynn looked the witch in the eye for a long moment. Morrigan felt herself wanting to fidget, as she often did when dealing with her mother.

“I suppose you recognize your protection is nearing it’s end.” Bronwynn said, leaving Morrigan to wonder what she had pondered saying instead. “I suppose I should be grateful; you know almost as much as I do about elven lore.” Bronwynn went on. There was a reservation in her voice that disturbed Morrigan. She was used to knowing more than others.

“No concerns, Inquisitor?” she asked; which garnered a real laugh from the woman.

“Oh, Morrigan. I know who your mother is.” Bronwynn said with an indulgent smile. “I know you wouldn’t have told me if you didn’t already have an agenda.” The younger woman reached out and took the older one’s  hands and squeezed them gently.

“No worries, Morrigan. I am content to have another mage helping me with this Darkspawn bastard.” Bronwynn smiled even wider before finishing. “Especially a Hero of the Fifth Blight!” This caused Morrigan to laugh in startlement before gently pushing the Inquisitor away. 

“Oh!” she said with laughter. “I thought...well never mind,” she stopped speaking to breathe deeply and regain her composure. 

“I will meet you at Skyhold,” she said before she walked away from the Inquisitor. She passed a strapping blond man as she did. For a brief moment she thought he was Alistair before she remembered that dunce was in Denerim ruling Ferelden quite well. Her eyes misted slightly as she thought of the sunkissed fool before she shook off her reverie and went to her rooms to gather her son and their things for their move to Skyhold.

* * *

Cullen saw the apostate leave the balcony, but gave it no other thought than to catalogue it automatically. He saw his love standing by at the ornately carved railing looking out over the lake. Somehow he knew she wasn’t really seeing the moonlit water.

“Well, we managed to save the Empress as well as her Empire. How are you holding up?” He asked her as he sidled next to her, his left arm around around her waist. She leaned into him wearily.

“Angry and exhausted.” she answered. “Most of this could have been avoided; and yet they will learn nothing from it. When this threat is dealt with they will reopen their wicked hearts.” she said. He pulled her closer to his side to offer what comfort he could.

“What’s next?” he asked her and caught sight of a very wicked grin as she looked up at him.

“We go home and make love.” she answered huskily.

“Well,” he said with his own wicked smile. “I certainly like that plan. But I was thinking more immediately.” He stepped away from her, taking her hand and bowing over it.

“My Lady Amell, may I have this dance?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” she replied as he pulled her into his arms for a dance.

 


	45. Chapter 45

**Chapter 45**

He smiled when she called his name in a pleading fashion. He traced his tongue around her now extra sensitive clit, being careful not to press the nubbin. Holding her hips in place with flexed forearms, he dipped lower with his tongue. He heard the ties he had used to keep her arms above her head creaking as she pulled in an attempt to free herself as he slid his tongue inside her pussy. 

Her body wriggled under his arms, her well defined thighs clamped on his shoulders. He just went on thrusting his tongue shallowly into her.  Her breathing went from harsh and shallow to short pants with mewls of pleasure. 

Her thighs relaxed, falling open as he took his time drinking in her pleasure. He heard the cloth ties on her arms snap several minutes later as she arched her back and shrieked just as he felt her clenching with her orgasm.

“Vhenan, please!” she begged, digging her fingers into his forearms and pulling.

“Please, what my heart?” he asked, his voice nearly unintelligible with his own desire. The Commander slid halfway up her body, shifting his weight onto his left elbow. He watched as his love’s emerald eyes glow from the latent magic inside her.

Cullen leaned forward and wrapped his lips around the taught raspberry colored nipple on her left breast. He slid the fingers of his right hand slowly into her shivering opening. He sucked gently on her nipple while thrusting firmly with his right hand. Her hips rocked up to meet his hand and she twisted her lithe fingers in his blond locks. 

“More, oh!” she managed between her pants and moans of pleasure. He kissed his way across her sternum to her right breast.

“My heart,” he managed to say through his own haze of desire. “What do you want more of?” he wondered at his own self control.

“I …” she had to stop speaking when he twisted his right hand so he could press her clit with his thumb. 

“Damnit Vhenan! I want you inside me!” she shouted suddenly; her hands pulling on his hair with desperation. The blond didn’t laugh. He slipped up her body to swallow her gasp as he thrust inside her. 

For all that he wanted to race to finish, to feel her convulse beneath his as she flew with him; he held still and simply kissed her deeply. He kissed her until their breathing was even again.

She was tracing the muscles of his arms with her hands, her body still; if not completely relaxed. He used his knees to lift her hips and place pillows under her. Bronwynn breathed his name as that pulled him deeper inside her. When he slid his hands along her arms, raising them above her head once again she whimpered. 

Cullen had to stop and breath before he could complete his task, his movement had him sliding deeper inside her still. He could feel the heat of her against his own pelvis. He quickly tied the loose ends of the cloth ties still attached to her wrists around one of the bars on the head of the bed. 

“Cullen.” she whined before he started moving. Short strokes, he didn’t move more than a few inches back before sliding forward once more. With each stroke the bones of his pelvis gently struck her now over sensitive clitoris. His mage was now beyond speaking words, merely soft grunts.

The ex-Templar kept the pace even for ten long minutes before he couldn’t hold back any longer. He pressed his forehead against her sternum between her breasts with the first long stroke back; leaving only the head of his dick inside her heat. Before she could finish her cry of no he thrust hard and deep inside her. Deeply enough that he could feel his testicles slap against her. He pulled back once again and smiled without knowing it as she sighed yes before he slammed back into her. 

His orgasm rocked him, but he kept moving. Harder and faster as he emptied himself in her. He heard her begging for her own release and began lavishing attention on her breasts, sucking hard on her nipples. He could feel her straining for one more orgasm still and gave himself enough room to slid his right hand between them to manipulate her clit. 

Her scream echoed through the room and for a brief moment she clenched so tightly on his dick he couldn’t move. He didn’t stop, however. Still, hard inside her, despite his own release; he twisted to untie the cloth on her ankles. 

“Cullen, let me touch you!” she begged. His answer was to pull out of her long enough to roll her onto her stomach. With the pillows still beneath her she didn’t have to adjust herself to be open to him. He did; however close her legs before adding a pillow, raising her hips higher. 

Unable to resist the taste of her he took a few minutes to flick his tongue between her pussy lips, making her writhe. 

Large, sword calloused hands gripped muscular but thin hips, positioning himself so his dick; still hard and throbbing, was at her opening. 

He relished her gasp and moan when the mushroom tip pushed through. He put his legs on either side of hers and used them to keep her from opening them. His thumbs pressed into the small of her back to force her hips higher. 

Cullen grit his teeth when he slid completely into her despite how tight she now was. He felt her whole body still as he filled her.

“Breathe, Bron.” He ordered gruffly as he began once again moving inside her. He could feel every twitch of her pussy along his dick and his fingers flexed on her hips. 

Bronwynn buried her face into the down mattress and screamed as she once again orgasmed. Cullen rocked continuously for several moments more, wringing one last drawn out wail from her as well as one last orgasm. 

He managed to slide to her left before he collapsed. She rolled into him as she panted. They fell asleep quickly and deeply. 

~

The maid Elena instructed the servants to keep quiet as they entered the Inquisitor’s chambers. It had been two days since the Inquisition had returned from The Winter Palace and everyone but the Inquisitor and her Commander had returned to their duties the day before. There was no doubt as to what was keeping the lovers but Elena and Louden felt it best the two of them rejoined the world. To that end Elena had the servants bring breakfast for them while she stoked the fire and opened the drapes. 

“Wha?” Cullen’s voice was thick with sleep as he turned to face the brightness. “Elena, get out.” He ordered. 

“In a moment, Sir.” she answered. “I’d stay in bed, Sir. There are other servants here.” Elena said pleasantly. Cullen turned when he heard Bronwynn snorting as she tried not to laugh at the maid’s lack of concern for Cullen’s mood.

“You tell her to leave.” he said to the redhead, who merely shook her head.

“I smell bacon.” Was the response. “As well as fresh bread and lemon cakes.” she then took an exaggerated sniff. “I also smell hot chocolate and coffee.” Bronwynn sat up, holding the covers over her breast as she did so. 

“Look, there’s even hot water for a bath.” Cullen gave up being upset over his interrupted sleep since she sounded sincerely excited about the hot chocolate. 

“Fine,” he groused however. “I’m getting out of bed to get the tub.” That sent the extra servants flying from the room; and although Elena blushed as he did exactly that she pulled out a robe to give to the Inquisitor.

“Oh, go on Elena!” Bronwynn laughingly ordered. “We’re up and about and will be down after we eat, okay?” The maid nodded and curtsied before leaving the room. 

“She’s getting braver.” Cullen commented as he pulled the porcelain tub from it’s storage area. Dagna had out done herself with the design. It was in a cabinet that opened on a flooring that rolled out. It then locked into place, keeping it from sliding once filled. The most complicated part was the drain. He had to put in a cork on the deepest part of the tub to keep the water in and when it was time to drain the used water, one of them had to attach a tube that let the water out and into the garden trough. 

“We could eat first.” Bronwynn said as she looked at the food on the table. She heard a sound from him that made her shiver. “Food, Vhenan. Food!” she clarified. 

“Are you certain?” he asked hopefully. She turned her emerald green eyes to him with a pained smile. 

“I haven’t ached like this in  _ years _ , my heart.” She said. “I need to recover.”

~

“Well, it seems our illustrious Commander has decided to join us!” Iron Bull called out as Cullen strode out to the fighters sparring field. Cullen merely narrowed his eyes at the brass and very un-Qunari like Qunari. 

“I wonder how your Tamasarin would react to you’re being so very …” Cullen paused for a short moment as if searching for the right descriptor. “Antivan.” he finished. 

Iron Bull was speechless for a long moment from the shock. He knew the Ferelden had a biting wit, he’d heard it directed at Dorian during their chess games. But to hear this from the Templar nearly had him falling over from the shock. Especially when he realized everyone on the field was laughing harder at his shock than the joke.

“Now, who owes whom fifty quid, Dwarf?” Dorian said between his guffaws. 

“Oh I’ll pay up Sparkles!” Varric replied while wiping his eyes of tears. “Best fifty quid I’ve ever lost!” Bull merely started laughing himself while shaking his head. 

“How long were you working on that one, Commander?” Bull asked suspiciously. 

“Spur of the moment!” Cullen exclaimed before calling out orders for the soldiers. Bull didn’t believe him, but had to let it go.

~

Bronwynn sighed in frustration when she realized the mages were far more interested in ribbing her about her sex life this morning than practicing. She turned away from the practice range just as Fiona broke away from a group of senior mages. She frowned slightly when she saw Solas following close behind the older elf. Not many knew of the nomadic man’s disdain for modern elves. Indeed, Bronwynn wondered if there wasn’t more to his disdain. 

“Inquisitor? If I may?” Fiona’s soft Orlesian accent was pleasant to hear, even if most of what she had to say was not. 

“Of course, Fiona.” Bronwynn spared a brief glance at Solas before giving the dark haired ex-Warden her attention.

“I am afraid there are several young mages who have turned to blood magic.” Fiona said softly. Bronwynn heard the pain the admission caused the older woman. Bronwynn winced at the news and closed her eyes, her own heart filling with sorrow. 

“What did the other Enchanters say?” Bronwynn asked.

“They wish to do an investigation,” there was a hesitancy to her voice. “They are asking for Templars.” She said after a brief pause and Bronwynn snorted disdainful laughter.

“I will ask Ser Barris if he is willing to look into it; but I suspect he will insist on having Ser Solas, Madame de Fer and yourself working with him.” Fiona made a face that caused Bronwynn to laugh almost meanly. 

“You could have joined the Venatori, Fiona.” Bronwynn said softly. The older woman lifted her chin with pride.

“I wanted freedom for my brethren.” she said.

“And damn the consequences to those who didn’t want to fight,” Bronwynn waved her hand to silence the woman. “An argument we will forever have, Enchanter.” Bronwynn said. “You made your choice.” She looked over at the other elf who then stepped forward.

“I do not sense a taint within them,” he paused and looked at Fiona with pity. “Yet.” Bronwynn nodded.

“Gather your  _ advisors _ , Fiona. I’ll speak with Barris; Solas will you bring Vivienne up to speed?” He nodded in answer, though his face was grim. Neither mage liked speaking to one another outside of battle. Bronwynn watched as the two went separate ways and wondered how this was going to work; after all Fiona had called for the rebellion because she hated the Templars.

The mage sighed and turned back to the practice field giving a sharp whistle. She smiled evilly when the others turned to face her.

“So, you want to know what he looks like naked?” she asked loudly. There was now a penetrating silence. “Then, bring down my shields and disarm me.” she goaded. “Before I do the same to you.”

Bronwynn laughed when the older mages literally bowed gracefully to her before stepping to the sidelines to watch, leaving a mere seventy younger mages on the field. She returned the bow to the older mages; several of whom had a hand in training her.

The youngest mages, most barely more than eighteen, made the first volley. They figured she wasn’t ready since she was bowing to the oldsters. They were wrong. 

Twenty minutes later Bronwynn was laughingly calling out instructions to the remaining fifty mages on the field. Cullen and the mundane forces had joined the spectators as time went on. 

Another fifteen minutes passed and Bronwynn had whittled down her opponents numbers to twenty. These were more experienced battle mages and used to conserving their energy; yet they were showing signs of exhaustion after almost an hour of fighting. 

“Mages!” Cullen called, knowing they wouldn’t look to him but would heed him. “There’s ambient energy in the air around you; pull on it!” he commanded. The Commander was unsurprised when Dorian stepped onto the field to help guide them through the process. 

From his vantage point Cullen could see that his mage was down to one shield, meaning she had layered her shields to allow them to be taken down.

“You’ve almost got her!” He shouted to the remaining ten as Bronwynn and exhaustion had taken out another five. These ten were soaked with sweat and panting as if they’d run a marathon. He could hear the Templars calling out encouragement to the mages; often by name. Cullen smiled with pride. There was hope, faint as it may appear. 

Five minutes more and it was down to three mages and Bronwynn. Everyone could see the Inquisitor taking deep breaths, though not quite panting. She drew a hand across her brow during a short lull in the volleys. 

“Well?” She taunted when the three of them began to whisper amongst themselves. She grinned when they turned as one to hit her with a massive lightning strike, killing her final shield with sparks. Two of the mages worked together with a telekinesis spell to grab both her staff and her charm bracelet. They began laughing when Bronwynn gripped her staff tightly with both hands and stuck her tongue out at them. 

So caught up in the moment, Bronwynn failed to see the third mage as he moved around behind her. Had the audience not suddenly grown deathly quiet he may have succeeded. She ducked and twisted to her right a second before he was able to grab her staff. She used the motion to flip him onto his back and knock his own staff from his hands. 

This action caused her to lose her grip on her staff, though and the others were able to pull it from her.

“Yield!” she shouted before falling to the ground with laughter. The spectators shout of victory was louder than the mages, which made the Inquisitor laugh even harder. The mage she had knocked over reached out to help her up after he was up. 

“We will see you after dinner?” he asked with a mischievous twinkle. 

“Yes, Henri. After dinner. Just hope that my Commander doesn’t catch wind of what the prize was!” When the man’s eyes widened in fear Bronwynn tipped her head and walked away.

“Inquisitor!” Cullen called to gain her attention. Bronwynn waved Vivienne and Barris on as she waited for Cullen to join her. 

“Anything important?” he asked nodding to the mage and the Templar. 

“Yes, but they don’t need me to work it out.”  She replied. He smiled and took her hand.

“Well then, come with me if you please?”

“To the ends of the world.” She said.

Cullen led his redhaired mage through the keep to one of the lower garden areas. The waterfall was surprisingly quiet in the small space. Bronwynn wasn’t quite sure how there was golden sunlight filtering through; but the garden was breathtakingly romantic. Vines with multi-colored flowers climbed the walls while lush green grass blanketed the ground. 

The pool the waterfall fell in was clear with a sandy bottom. Bronwynn had moved to the edge and was sure the depth was deceiving. Either deeper or more shallow than it appeared. There were several trees in the secluded glade as well as logs, almost seemed to be set pieces with how they fell. The four large rocks in the area were definitely meant to be there as furniture. 

“Have to admit, Vhenan.” Bronwynn said with a smile as she turned to face him. “The ancient elves knew how to create a romantic setting.” His laugh was warm when he waved an arm to the blanket and picnic he’d set out for them. 

“Of course, they have nothing on you!”

“I’m sure they managed to find ways.” Cullen responded with his crooked smile. “Shall we?”  


	46. Chapter 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And we come to Mythal.

**Chapter 46**

**Fourteen days later**

 

“Inquisitor.” Cullen said when she entered the War Room the following day. “We have a situation.” She frowned at his tone. He wasn’t one to be dramatic, so the seriousness worried her.

“What is it?” she asked. 

“We finally got the reports from Sahrnia.” Her eyes widened. It had taken the soldiers several months to get through to the suddenly snow bound town. It was most assuredly a magical storm that had caused the freezing of the river as well as the snow storm. 

“It is not good, Inquisitor.” Leliana echoed Cullen’s serious tone with her own. Bronwynn closed her green eyes and took a deep breath. 

“Do I need to head out there now?” she asked.

“There are rifts, of course,” Cullen said. “The true problem, however, was the Red Templars.” 

“Was?” Bronwynn asked. Now her advisors all gave her identical wolfish smiles.

“Between the Inquisition forces and the Warden forces, the blighted Templars stood no chance.” Cullen said with pride. Bronwynn smiled to herself. 

“You were right; the Wardens were able to sense them before they had a chance to see our forces coming. That was the edge that gave our fighters and mages what they needed to prevail.” 

“Indeed,” Leliana went on to add. “Your suggestions for how the mages and Templars could work together to mitigate the damage the Rifts cause has been immensely helpful as well.” Bronwynn nodded and seemed to sag in relief. She didn’t have to be everywhere at once. The Inquisition had a way to help the people without her riding to the forefront all the time. 

“Good, we need to focus on stopping Corypheus. That Emissary is our top priority.” She said. Once again her smooth features crinkled into a frown when Cullen shook his head.

“Before we can focus on Corypheus, Inquisitor; we have to deal with both Samson and Calpernia first.” Bronwynn’s frown went to confusion for a short moment.

“Wasn’t he the Templar that Meredith kicked out for passing love notes for a mage?” She asked him.

“Yes, and he had been a good man; reduced to begging and smuggling to get his lyrium afterwards.” Cullen sighed before continuing.

“Hawke had vouched for him after a group of Templars and Blood Mages kidnapped his sister in order to lure him into a trap. Samson had volunteered to get Templars to come assist in their arrest.” He shook his head. 

“Meredith wouldn’t hear of him being reinstated to full Knight status. She did relent enough to allow him a steady supply of lyrium as a recruit though.” Bronwynn snorted and rolled her eyes. She hadn’t had much to do with the Templars in Kirkwall, but it didn’t surprise her that Meredith had been thus. 

“This means what in relation to our fight against Corypheus?” she asked her advisors. “How does stopping Samson and Calpernia hurt the Darkspawn?”

“We found evidence that Samson is using  _ people _ to  _ grow _ the red lyrium.” he answered and Bronwynn had to swallow hard to keep from vomiting.

“Using them  _ how? _ ” Bronwynn asked.

“Those who are mining it become infected by it.” he said. Bronwynn was afraid she didn’t want to know the rest but waited for him to finish.

“Then they either become Behemoths; or they die and become patches of the lyrium.” he said. 

“That  _ bastard _ !” she swore. “He has to know it’s blighted.” She said. 

“Not really.” Bronwynn turned to see who was speaking as the door to the War Room opened loudly. “Really only Wardens can sense the blight.” The redhaired dwarf said as she closed the door behind her. Dagna was smiling, her usual peppy self. 

“I have two things of good news...which do you want first?” She bounced on her toes before continuing. “Never mind, I’ll give you both.”

Still worked up from the revelation about Samson, Bronwynn  rounded on the Dwarf.

“Dagna, how about you stop and breathe for a moment before you continue?” The redhaired Dwarf stopped bouncing in response to the Inquisitor’s, sudden outburst. 

“My apologies, Inquisitor. I just thought you’d want the information quickly.” she said, only slightly less enthused.

“Yes, but what exactly are you talking about?”

“Well, Commander Cullen had mentioned that Samson had armor that might make him hard to defeat and Sister Leliana got information on the Venatori leader Calpernia and asked me to try and help her spy on her.”

Bronwynn took a deep breath as she looked at her Commander and her Spymaster. 

“I’m just hearing about this now,  _ why _ ?” she demanded. The two looked at one another before looking back at her guiltily. Although Leliana didn’t look quite as guilty as she should.

“Truly, my love; what with all that happened at Adamant and Halamshiral happening so  _ quickly _ ; we just didn’t think to bring you in on it.” Cullen admitted. Bronwynn turned to Leliana who tried to act as if that were the reason.

“Tell me another, Vhenan.” Bronwynn deadpanned. Her Commander scowled at her in response.

“It would be more accurate to say we didn’t think you  _ needed _ to be brought in, Inquisitor.” the Antivan Ambassador said diplomatically. 

“Not buying it. Sister Lei, spill” she demanded of the other redhead.

“Fine; I was hoping to solve the matter without your intervention being necessary.” Bronwynn continued to stare unrelentingly at the former Bard.

“You’re squeamish about removing threats, Inquisitor. I was hoping to deal with this expediently.” Leliana said with a frustrated sigh. “Obviously it isn’t in the cards.” 

Bronwynn sighed as she thought about this information. She realized that there really wasn’t anything she could do but complain after the fact. Indeed, Bronwynn felt an abundance of pride in her advisors; as well as herself. They had taken her suggestions to heart and didn’t need her to intervene constantly. 

“Proceed, Dagna.” she said softly.

“Sister Nightingale, I found a way to use that crystal the way you wanted me too and Ser Cullen, I know where you can find me the tools I need to stop Samson.

“I told you I’d find out where he was getting his supplies.” Cullen said with annoyance.

“Yes, but Sera was faster.” Dagna said. “Here, I’ll put it on the map.” The very perky Dwarf slipped passed Cullen and moved one of his  markers on the map in the north. Not quite in Nevarra but not truly in Orlais either. 

“What you really want to do is to go there and get the Tranquil who made the armor in the first place.” She said to Cullen.

“Why is that?” He asked the Arcanist.

“I need to know how he made it to break it.” she answered quickly. Cullen sighed and muttered under his breath.

“Pardon me, Commander?” Dagna asked curiously. 

“He said Templars don’t know how to break enchanted items.” Bronwynn replied for him. He narrowed his blue eyes at her when she laughed. 

“We are trained  _ not _ to.” he reminded her. “Since this is Samson’s base, I’m going with you.” Bronwynn merely nodded at Dagna then turned to Leliana.

“Here…” she handed the spymaster two halves of a crystal. “This one will record, and this one will play what it hears” she said and Bronwynn had to ask what she meant. 

“When I sent agents to speak with a merchant being followed by the Venatori for Calpernia, they found this on the merchant’s body” Leliana said with regret. “Turns out he was a slaver and she had him killed due to damages done to the slaves she had bought.” Bronwynn shook her head at the amount of information she got from the normally taciturn woman. 

Yes, Leliana was quick with a quip and a smile; but she didn’t normally speak so much at once.

“So, this crystal will do what?” Bronwynn asked. 

“It will hopefully give us a small opening into the woman’s mind.” Leliana replied. 

“When do we leave for Samson’s base, Inquisitor?” Cullen asked and Bronwynn laughed softly.

“First light, Commander. Get a good night's sleep!” she teased. His sudden blush had all Leliana, Josephine, Bronwyn and Dagna laughing at him.

~*~

Three days after the War Room meeting Bronwynn, Cullen, Iron Bull, Sera, Vivienne, Cole and Solas stood at the foot of a very large Temple. Bronwynn cursed softly under her breath when she realized what she was seeing.  

“It’s a Shrine.” Vivienne said with sudden comprehension. “A Shrine to one of the Old Gods.” The woman’s voice was filled with fear and disgust.

“Dumat.” Cullen answered and Bronwynn gave a humorless laugh at the irony.

“He wants to be a god,” Iron Bull said with the same irony in his voice.

“Yet he clings to his Silent One” Bronwynn said before once again laughing. 

“I still can’t hear him, he’s too confused.” Cole said with distress.

“Stop trying, my dear.” Vivienne said to him. “You will only drive yourself madder with it.” Solas was still and quiet while the group stood there. 

“Let us go.” Cullen said before taking point, preventing the Inquisitor from leading the group. Bronwynn merely smiled and moved to his side while the others spread out to their usual positions. 

“Why did Varric have to stay with Dorian again?” Sera asked acerbically.

“Good question, Sera.” Cullen replied. “What happened to the mage again?”

“He broke his leg.” Iron Bull said with no small amount of rage. “Showing off for some of the young soldiers.” Bronwynn and Sera both chuckled at the Qunari spy.

“He was showing off,” Bronwynn said. “But not for the youngsters.” She said. “He was attempting to fly with a levitation spell.” 

“Because that makes it better.” The horned man said. 

“ _ You’re _ sleeping with the mage; you don’t get to complain about him using magic.” Sera said in defense of her noble friend. 

“It was amusing watching him attempt to land without hitting the rocks.” Vivienne said. “Right up until he hit the stairs.” 

“So why did Varric have to stay?”

“Because Cassandra wanted him to.” Bronwynn answered. “She said she needed him to keep Dorian occupied while she worked with the soldiers; heaven forbid they not have a babysitter while their Commander was away.” Bronwynn groused, causing Cullen to laugh.

Their banter stopped once they reached the final landing from the long stairs. Now they could clearly see the shrine for what it was. 

“The camp is empty.” Cullen snarled. “Please don’t let that bastard have gotten away as well!” he exclaimed. 

“Not completely abandoned!” Vivienne called out as she began throwing out her favored electrical attacks. Bronwynn matched it with fire and Solas added ice to the fray. Cullen, Cole and Iron Bull moved to intercept three Knights while Sera took advantage of the multiple spells to end three others. 

“You wanted Varric here why, darling?” Vivienne asked the elf.

“Bianca fires faster than I do!” Sera answered as she moved in to protect the dark skinned mages back from a Shadow that had appeared behind her. 

“Thank you, my dear.” Vivienne said before moving on to the Behemoth that lumbered into view at the top of the final set of stairs from the doors that led into the Shrine itself.

None of them were expecting the sudden electricity that jumped from the obsidian pillars that lined the outer courtyard. 

“Demons!” Cole called. He and Cullen rushed the stairs then, quickly taking out the Despair and Terror demons that had been summoned.

Cullen turned to see who of the mages needed help to see Sera shoving an arrow into the eye of a second Shadow Templar that had attempted to strike at Solas while Bronwynn and Vivienne had their spirit blades out to flank a Pride demon he hadn’t seen appear. 

Before he could move to assist, Iron Bull stepped up and thrust his great sword through the beast’s chest, finishing it off. 

“She holds the weight of the world on her shoulders.” Cole said suddenly, loud enough for only Cullen to hear. “But she won’t let you down again.” 

“Cole,” he said to the spirit of compassion. “She never did and never will.” He clapped the young man on the shoulder and waited for the group to join them.

“You’re bleeding, Inquisitor.” Cullen said softly and dangerously. Bronwynn shook her head.

“Not mine.” she answered as she cleaned it off her armor with a swipe of her hand. He released a slow breath when he saw she was speaking the truth, she hadn’t gotten hurt. 

“It’s a good thing you don’t come with us often.” Iron Bull said under his breath; but Cullen heard him none the less.

“So you don’t take good care of her?” The ex-Templar asked softly. Bronwynn lowered her head so the others wouldn’t see her smile; she knew he was teasing the Qunari.

“I try!” the tall man said defensively before he saw Cullen’s own smile break. “Bah!” the Qunari said helplessly. “You got me this time.”

They all turned to the now open doors and could feel heat coming from inside.

“Damnit!” Cullen shouted. “They’ve set fire to the place!” He didn’t run in, although he was still ahead of the rest. The three mages did what they could to douse the flames, but most of the interior was beyond salvaging. 

“Spread out,” Bronwynn commanded. “Find what you can; anything may help us figure out how to circumvent Samson’s armor!” Her team did just that while Cullen stayed with her. It wasn’t long before they found the Tranquil Maddox.

“Maddox!” Cullen shouted in relief before he realized the Tranquil was dying.

“That would be a waste, Knight-Captain.” The man said in response to his calling for a healer. “I took all of my nightshade.” Bronwynn sighed and knelt before the former mage.

“I know you’re Tranquil Maddox; but there are less painful ways to kill yourself.” she said. “We wouldn’t have hurt you.” 

“I know that, Inquisitor, but we wanted to be sure Samson got away.” He was fading quickly and Bronwynn knew she couldn’t help him. “I wanted to serve.” he said as he slipped into oblivion. 

“Maker keep you by his side, Maddox. May you now be free; as free as  _ He _ meant you to be.” Bronwynn whispered. 

“Strange blessing, my heart.” Cullen said.

“Look, there.” she pointed to a desk that was untouched by the flames. There, lining one corner were several metal birds. “Proof, if you need it Vhenan, that being made Tranquil doesn’t make a person fully docile.” There were tears in her eyes as she looked at the birds. 

“We’ll find a better way.” Her lover said as he reached out to gently squeeze her shoulder. She nodded sadly after a moment. 

“Let’s keep looking.” She said as she stood. “There has to be something.” The two of them searched the desk and found a letter from Samson to Cullen.

“I guess he knows you better than you thought.” She said uneasily.

“It wouldn’t be hard, my heart. We were both Templars.” 

“You left for very different reasons,” she said. “You also never lost faith in the Maker.” she finished. 

“Here!” Vivienne called from another part of the shrine, interrupting the conversation. “Tools. These had to be made by the Tranquil.” she said as she showed them the tools.

“Dagna should be able to make out what they are for.” Cullen responded after looking at them.

“Um, Inky!” Sera called from somewhere behind them. “I think you ought to see this!”

Sera had managed to find a room hidden behind the area Maddox had breathed his last. Inside was a curious magic field that housed an old man. At least, he appeared old within the magical field. He also looked as if he had suffered greatly.

“I’ve never seen the like.” Solas said with both awe and horror. It was clear the poor man was in pain.

“Who are you?” Bronwynn asked gently as she stepped closer to the field.

“I am Erasthenes. I was a Magister who studied the Old Gods.” His voice was broken, pain filled but also full of pride. 

“What is this?” Bronwynn asked him, not needing to elaborate.

“A binding, a prototype. I cannot lie or prevaricate, Inquisitor.” his voice held the memory of old battles. Bronwynn didn’t even ask how he knew she was the Inquisitor. 

“Corypheus did this to you, didn’t he?” she asked the Magister. He answered yes.

“This is what he intends for Calpernia, once she becomes his Vessel.” Bronwynn sighed softly. 

“Who is she to you?” Cullen asked harshly. 

“She was my favorite. I taught her, but she turned on me when Corypheus came.” He sighed and shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position within his magical cage. Bronwynn couldn’t help but laugh internally at the justice of his position. Slave owner turned slave; but the irony of it was lost on the now broken man. 

“This is her fate.” He said again, and all of the watchers heard the sorrow in his voice. His body shuddered before he began to cough. He was wracked with convulsions for a brief moment and Bronwynn turned her head to the side. She saw Cole staring at the man with grief and made her decision. 

“I will end your pain, Magister; even though you don’t deserve it.” She said sadly. She reached out with a staff, sliding magic through the crystal at the head. The magic field collapsed in on itself and as the spell failed the room shifted into darkness.

“Light a lamp, would you Calpernia? Everything is so dark.” Erasthenes said as the light faded, breathing his last as the darkness consumed him. Bronwynn reached out and took the scroll that had fallen from his hands. It held the spell’s incantations. Bronwynn shuddered before placing it inside a scroll case. 

“Well,” Iron Bull said in the silence. “I guess we don’t need to know what Calpernia is afraid of.” 

“No.” Cullen replied. “I don’t think she knows Corypheus has this in store for her.

“We need to find out where Samson his remaining Templars, and Calpernia with her Venatori are, Commander.” Bronwynn said. Her voice was flat and cold, causing them all to shiver at the implication.

“Let’s get back to Skyhold, Inquisitor.” Cullen replied with a brief nod. He made sure to have a few of the Inquisition soldiers give Maddox a proper burial before following his Inquisitor back to their camp for the night.

~*~

“Just  _ how _ did you manage to get such elaborate quarters, Sparkles?” Varric asked as he tried to make himself comfortable on the very large overstuffed chair near the fire in said quarters.

“I’m nobility.” The mage answered, as if that were all it took. Both Varric; head of House Tethras and Cassandra, Nevarran princess that is seventeenth in line to the throne - laughed at the younger man.

“Okay, I also asked for them. I  _ am _ sleeping with a rather  _ large _ man; we need the room.” He said this with aplomb which amazed the other occupants of the room since he was not normally so outspoken about his relationship with the Qunari.

“I gave them to you because you are one of the Inquisitor’s Inner Circle. One of her generals, as it were.” Josephine interjected as she waved the servants in so they could place the food they were bringing on a low table between Dorian’s guests. 

“Indeed, it is also useful to keep you close for the gossip.” Leliana quipped as she led Cullen’s older sister Mia into the elegantly appointed room. 

Dorian laughed heartily at the two women as he tried to get comfortable with his casted leg. Bronwynn had refused to heal the damage until the chirurgen had set the bone. Then she claimed it would be better for it to heal on its own for several weeks before she healed it fully. He had groused loudly and long to make it clear he was not happy with the decision; even though he had agreed with her in the end.

Josephine and Leliana had wasted no time in putting a secret plan they had concocted into motion. 

“Now. Is everyone settled?” Josephine asked, only to jump when Elena, Bronwynn’s ladies maid burst into the room.

“My apologies!” she gasped as she shut the door and sat down behind the group. 

“None needed, sit here.” Mia said as she made room for the elf between herself and Leliana. Nervously the maid moved to the indicated spot before Josephine began again.

“Now.” she said with barely concealed excitement. “I want your input on the wedding.” 

Dorian, Varric and Cassandra looked at the Ambassador with identical curious expressions. This caused the Spymaster to laugh at her friend. 

“OH! You don’t know what wedding I’m speaking of?” The Antivan asked with false coyness. 

“I’m going out on a limb here to ask; do you mean Curly and Jade’s?”

“Didn’t you call her Emerald?” Dorian asked suddenly.

“Yeah, but Jade fits better.” The dwarf said on a shrug. Josephine tapped her ever present portable writing desk to get their attention.

“Yes, that is the one.” 

“I think I should leave.” Cassandra said. Leliana grabbed the Nevarran noble woman’s arm and forced her to remain in her seat. 

“Your opinion matters.” she said simply. “You know Cullen better than everyone here.” Cassandra then pointed to Mia.

“I believe she is his sister. She knows him better than I, surely?” Mia shook her head in the negative.

“I know who he  _ was _ before the Templars...now.” She shrugged. I’m here because I know what he will expect for the party after the ceremony.” Cassandra sighed and relaxed into her chair in defeat.

“Very well.” she answered. 

“Please tell me we’re keeping with the green’s and blue’s the two of them are wont to wear!” Dorian asked. 

“Oh, please we must!” Mia joined. “When Bronwynn and I were discussing the wedding while they were visiting he made it clear; green and blue!” she laughed. 

“Well that makes part of it easier.” Leliana said while Josephine wrote it down.

“Silks for the seating.” Varric said as he himself began to write on parchment that no one had seen him produce. “I can get a great rate on blue and white silk for that.”

“Good, I think we can cover the windows in green brocade then.” Elena said loudly, startling herself. “I mean,” she said a little more softly. “Milady actually has an abundance of the fabric in storage here at the Keep.” 

“Good idea, Elena.” Josephine nodded. “I’ll leave it to you to get it ready. I already have the guest list; thank you again Mia for your help there.” Mia waved the thanks away.

“You’ll want to make sure your cooks know that the village women will want to make the cake. It would crush them to not be allowed to do that.” 

“Oh, Maker. I have heard from the Inquisitor that their cakes surpass even those in Val Royeaux. I won’t stop them from making the cake.” Josephine shook her head.

“We will just have to be sure we have petit fours from Val Royeaux to trick the nobles into thinking it was made there.” Leliana said with a sly smile. Elena and Mia matched the Chantry spy’s smile as the conversation continued.

“Elena,” Josephine said when the discussion turned from the menu to clothing. “Have you any idea what the Inquisitor would prefer in a gown?” To this, the dark haired elf smiled and nodded.

“I have already completed the dress, Milady.” She said. “She had drawn the design while still in Kirkwall. I have it hidden in one of the chests she never uses.” 

“Run and fetch it, Elena.” Dorian instructed kindly. “We’ll want to see it so we can finalize the decor as well as our own dress.” Elena nodded and hurried from the room. 

“Where is Blackwall?” Varric asked suddenly, and Josephine blushed. “Oh-ho. So that’s where. Nevermind, Ruffles; he can stay there.” The Antivan woman managed to laugh with the Dwarf before turning the conversation back to the wedding plans.

“Um, one question, Ruffles?” Varric interjected again, just as Elena came back into the room with a paper covered bundle. 

“Yes, Master Tethras?” 

“ _ When _ are we going to have this party?” He asked her.

~*~

Bronwynn and her entourage had returned to the Keep a week earlier and now she and Morrigan stood before an ornate mirror that she knew to be an elven Eluvian two days after the Witch arrived at Skyhold. 

“It was broken when I found it.” Morrigan was telling her.

“Maker, Morrigan. This had to have taken a lot of power to fix!” she exclaimed with awe.

“Indeed.” 

“What was the purpose?” the Inquisitor asked as she traced the elaborate carvings on the rim, silently and automatically translating the elven. 

“I needed a safe place to rest and recover after the Battle of Denerim.” she said, and Bronwynn could hear the evasiveness in her voice. 

“He found you, didn’t he?” The Warden asked with a small smile. “We Wardens are good at finding what we’re looking for.” Morrigan chuckled but gave no verbal response. 

“So, I know it doesn’t lead to the fade without a  _ lot _ of power and the right mindset,” she commented after. “Where exactly does it go?”

“Let me show you.” Morrigan answered as she fired up the enchanted mirror. When the two entered the grayscale area. The buildings she could see were mostly destroyed or decayed. The few that were intact looked as if they were holding on to their dignity by sheer dint of will. The air was stale, seemingly sucking deeply of the air the two mages brought with them through the Eluvian.

Bronwynn’s face held both awe and sorrow.

“I call it the Crossroads.” Morrigan said solemnly. “A place between the Fade and Mortal planes.” Bronwynn’s gaze roamed over the horizon of the area. “As you said, I repaired this mirror at great cost to myself. There are others, of course. They require a  _ key _ of some sort to activate; and that is only the ones that are still operational.” 

“How did you manage to  _ rest _ here?” the redhaired mage asked, the air seemed to shimmer; almost as if it was taking a deep breath from the newly opened portal. Morrigan didn’t answer and Bronwynn’s mind was buzzing as links began to connect in her mind. 

“So you think Corypheus is heading to the Arbor Wilds for the Eluvian that is in the Temple to Mythal?” the younger mage asked as she turned once again to face Morrigan. Before the witch could answer there was a strange gurgling noise in the distance. Bronwynn looked around more, opening her mouth before she could speak though she felt a shiver across the back of her neck. She reached out with her senses; and although she could find nothing dangerous she still felt unease.

“We should leave, it isn’t… safe... to stay long” Morrigan said, suddenly very serious. Bronwynn nodded her agreement. Uncaring as to how Morrigan knew it wasn’t safe as her own senses confirmed the assessment.

“Cullen confirmed that Corypheus has sent his people to the Arbor Wilds. So he must be after the vir’abelasan in the Temple of Mythal.” Once again she turned to the apostate witch, this time for confirmation of her thought.

Morrigan shut down the mirror, turning the glass black once again then turned to the Inquisitor who was once again reading the engravings on the mirror’s frame.

“Two questions. First,” Morrigan said with true curiosity. “How do you know there is a Temple to Mythal in the Arbor Wilds?” she asked. “Second,” she went on. “What makes you think there is an Eluvian there?”

Bronwynn gave the other woman a quizzical glance before heading out of the room. The Witch followed the Mage as she waited for an answer.

When they had reached the gazebo in the main Garden, Morrigan grinned when her son Kieran stepped up to the Inquisitor to speak about the mark. Bronwynn took the conversation in stride as she listened.

“Hello, who might you be?”

“Kieran. You’re the inquisitor.” he responded. 

“Yes, I am.” Bronwynn switched automatically to her Mage Sight and nearly gasped in shock when she saw the two souls within the child; one so very clearly ancient.

“Mother didn’t say you were a mage.” Bronwynn laughed lightly before bowing to him. 

“I’m sure she mentioned something else instead.” 

“Kieran, are you bothering the Inquisitor?” His mother asked as she stepped up to keep her son silent on the subject.

“No Mother, of course not. Did you see what’s on her hand?” 

“Yes, I did. Back to your studies little man.” Morrigan said with a wave. The young man sighed sadly but left.  

“So, that’s how my fellow Warden lived...too bad it’s not an ideal solution for the rest of us, eh?” Bronwynn said with humor.  Morrigan frowned at the woman.

“How did you work that out?” she asked warily.

“Well, firstly I read the reports as they came in. Aedan never said  _ how _ he survived. Which was frustrating since I needed to know if my cure actually kept the Archdemon from transferring its soul to another tainted creature.” The fair skinned mage sighed with frustration. “Not even Alistair would tell me how it happened.”

“He kept a secret?” Morrigan snarked; but Bronwynn heard the affection underneath.

“He does grow on you, doesn’t he?” Bronwynn asked, to which Morrigan made a face but nodded. 

“That doesn’t say how you worked it out.” the boy’s mother pushed. 

“He has two souls, Morrigan. One is very old.” she looked after where the youngling had gone. She seemed to be lost in thought for several moments.

“He’s able to see the hidden.” Bronwynn said finally. She didn’t see Morrigan’s nod of agreement.

“He also looks like Aedan.” Bronwynn said with a small smile. She’d only met the Warden Commander of Fereldan once or twice; but his looks were striking.

“You asked how I knew there was a Temple to Mythal in the Arbor Wilds.” she then said, facing the witch once again. 

“As you know it’s rather easy to get books when you know how.” she stated. Morrigan nodded. “Combine that with the life of a Warden,” Bronwynn shrugged. “Elven lore and history are my specialties. It wasn’t hard to match rumor, legend and myth to historical sites.” 

“I did not think anyone outside of myself, my mother and the Dalish were interested in Elven lore. The human mage laughed softly in response.

“The only  _ humans _ you mean?” Bronwynn asked. The Witch gave a small shrug in answer. “You are mostly correct. Flemmeth most likely instilled a thirst for it in you.” she finished with a sigh.

“I study their history to understand how we have fallen so far,” Bronwynn said softly, almost to herself. She didn’t see the quizzical look that Morrigan gave her. She shook herself out of her reverie to look back at the slightly older woman.

“ _ Do _ you think that he’s after an Eluvian?” Bronwynn asked her once again.The dark haired apostate Witch of the Wilds nodded.

“It would be the next easiest way for him to get through to the fade,” Morrigan said. “If no less dangerous.” 

“I’ll meet you in the War Room. Let the others know I’ll be there shortly, please?” Brownynn asked the dark haired woman who nodded in response. She then looked around the fortress for a short moment before heading up to her rooms to check her library. 

‘ _ I wonder if Fen'harel really knew what he was doing when he sealed the Gods away? _ ’ she asked herself.

_ He thought he was saving his people _ Knowledge said in response. That brought Bronwynn to a halt in the middle of the Great Hall, drawing more than a few strange looks. She shook her head at herself and started walking again before speaking with the spirit.

‘ _ What do you mean? _ ’ she asked. ‘ _ I thought it was merely allegory! _ ’

_ The facts have been lost to the ages. Lost to written history. _ The spirit sounded sad when she said this. 

‘ _ You don’t know what happened? _ ’ Bronwynn asked sadly. She knew it pained the spirit to not know something.

_ I have forgotten _ the spirit replied before slipping away from her friend. Bronwynn knew that for the spirit, forgetting something was worse than not having known it in the first place.

The mage hurried through the rest of the hall and up the tower to her room. She saluted the guards she passed automatically before she entered the actual room. It took her no time at all to find the book she was looking for, confirming her assumption about the Arbor Wilds being the home to the Temple of Mythal. Reading quickly, she was able to determine what she needed to do in order to make it through the Temple; assuming she was able to make it into the Temple. The ancient protections on the building itself could still be active.

~*~

Bronwynn stepped into the War Room with the book in hand to overhear her lover arguing with the Apostate. 

“You lived in a library and never learned anything other than what the Chantry wanted you to learn.” Morrigan was saying. 

“I am quite sure you know so much more about the Order and the Chantry than I do, Witch.” Bronwynn heard her lover’s anger coming through and spoke up to intervene.

“He knows five different languages. Speaks, writes and reads them as well, Morrigan. Can you say that?” She asked pointedly while handing the book to Cullen. The woman of the Kocari Wilds was left speechless with this information.

“Morrigan has a valid point about the Eluvians and their danger.” Bronwynn said to change the subject.

“Michele has given us what information he has on the pathways through the Crossroads.” Leliana said, her gaze not leaving her former comp

“So, we reroute the troops coming home from Adamant to the Arbor Wilds.” he temporized. “It will take them time to get there.” 

“Leliana, Josephine. Have your agents harry the Venatori and Templars to slow their march to the Wilds.” Cullen nodded. 

“Between that and a forced march with our forces here in Skyhold we should reach them at the same time.” He looked into his Mage’s green eyes as they filled with determination.

“We stop him here, we stop him now.” She told her advisors. Cullen locked his worry and fear for this woman deep. He wasn’t leaving her to face this alone this time. He was going to be leading her forces and he was going to protect her.

The redhead looked up at her advisors and smiled with deadly intent. 

“He’s not destroying our world just so he can feel important. Let’s go get this arrogant bastard!”

~*~

Bronwynn entered the Undercroft on a mission. 

“Dagna!” she called out to the Arcanist. That worthy woman turned a smiling face to her employer and held out a rune.

“Just finished, Inquisitor.” she said handing it to the mage.

“Okay, promise me you were more than careful, Dagna. I’d hate to upset Sera!” Bronwynn teased. The Dwarf merely smiled and assured the Inquisitor she was fine. Bronwynn nodded and turned to leave when Dagna called her back.

“Promise me, Inquisitor,” she said with a sudden seriousness. “Promise me you’ll bring her back safe.” Bronwynn dropped to one knee and hugged the young woman tightly. 

“I swear, Dagna. I’ll bring her home safe.” she whispered before leaving the crafting area.


	47. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Arbor Wilds. Need I say more?

**Chapter 47**

**The Arbor Wilds**

 

Cullen, Leliana and Josephine stood at the center of the base camp conversing quickly. Josephine nodded to her compatriots as they each hurried to their men. The Ambassador turned in time to see the Empress stepping from a non-descript carriage that hastily left the area. 

“Where do they go?” Celine asked curiously.

“Cullen leads reinforcements to the front line, Sister Nightingale to help her agents harry the flanks.” Josephine answered the Empress. “You should be at Halamshiral, Your Grace.” she admonished gently. 

“My cousin assures me that Our forces are well trained; but if We send Our men and women to battle We will at least be visible to them.” she replied. Josephine sighed and bowed in acquiescence. Bronwynn stepped forward into the conversation at this point, followed by her Inner Circle. 

“I am sure, Your Grace, that your soldiers are grateful to know you care so much for them.” The redhead said, infusing graciousness into her voice. 

“An Exalted March against this beast; we will bring him down.” The blond empress smiled under her mask, a look that many would fear. “Avenge Our Empire.” she finished softly. Bronwynn merely nodded before asking Josephine to join her.

“I want her surrounded by any and all that are willing; please keep her away from my front line.” Bronwynn implored.

“We knew she was coming, we already made arrangements.” was the satisfactory answer.

“I leave the organization in your capable hands, Josie. Keep yourself safe as well.” She mock commanded before hugging the Antivan.

“You as well, Bronwynn.” the reserved woman replied softly as the younger woman stepped away and called to her circle. 

“Milady.” Blackwall stepped close enough to be heard, just not close enough to touch.

“Do stop, Gordon.” she said with a hand up. “I expect you to come back and taunt me more.” She lifted her nose in the air, then ruined the effect by winking at him. He bowed stiffly and formally before stepping into her personal space and kissing her quickly. Varric crowed and Dorian held his hand out to Bull 

“You owe me five crown, amatus.” The Iron Bull sighed.

“Fine, kadan. When we get back to Skyhold.” the Qunari sounded quite put out.

“Betting on my lovelife?” Blackwall asked darkly.

“Never, Grizzly!” Varric chimed. “We were betting on whether or not you’d kiss her today.” 

“As if that was the first time I’ve done that today.” The male Warden said baldly. The others all gasped, except for Bronwyn who turned to Varric and said. 

“One hundred Sovereigns, when we get back to the Keep, in front of  _ everyone _ !” 

“You had to have cheated, Jade. No other way you’d have known he’d say that!” Varric groused aloud.

Blackwall and Bronwynn’s laughter could be heard fading as they exited the large camp.

~*~

Leliana and her agents watched as the Inquisitor and her circle easily wiped out the Red Templars that had been giving them a hard time. Five mages and two archers were devastating against the Behemoths while the assassin made short work of the Red Knights. The three fighters stayed close to the mages and archers, preventing the Red Shadows from taking out the most vulnerable of the team. 

Leliana hmm’d as she caught her breath. 

“Barker, get the assassins out front. Have them copy Cole. Shimmer,” the spymaster turned to another agent. 

“Yes, ma’am?” 

“Let us put a few mages and archers of our own ahead of the Inquisitor. They should be able to repeat the effects.” Both agents nodded and disappeared from view. Leliana called the agents left to her and explained her plan before they also headed further ahead of the Inquisitor. 

Though none of the spies had thought her incapable; watching their inquisitor do in ten minutes what they hadn’t been able to do in thirty left them all feeling hopeful as well as in awe. She was invincible.

~*~

Commander Cullen Stanton Rutherford called orders from the middle of the front line at the shallow river before the final leg of the path that led to the temple entrance. Warden forces rallied with the fall of every Red Templar; their enthusiasm boiled over to the Inquisition forces which kept the front line from failing before the Inquisitor got there.

“Commander!” He heard her voice before he saw her. “Give me an opening!” The blond Templar turned to see her and her circle running in from the east. 

“Open up in the east!” Cullen called over the sounds of metal on metal. He lead the change in focus for the line, widening an area for his Inquisitor to punch through. 

“Mages!” Her voice rang across the field. “Show these poor souls some mercy!” Cullen had no idea what she meant until every mage on the battlefront cast blizzard at once, engulfing the opposition in blinding snow, cutting winds and bone shattering ice.

“Archers,  _ now _ !” Cullen commanded. The hail of arrows may not have blacked out the sky, but the sound of bows releasing drowned out the cries of the Red Templars as the cold froze them.

“Mages!” Cullen called, his own voice clear and firm. “ Light them up!” He shook his head when he heard a smattering of joyful laughter from around him. He knew these mages weren’t enjoying the killing. He understood they were simply happy to be casting; it was still slightly disturbing none the less. Especially when he saw his Mage and her three compatriots trying to one up each other on the spells they were casting while the shapeshifter turned into a giant spider to harry the enemy forces. 

“Chargers!” Iron Bull cried “Break the line!” 

“Horns up!” Krem shouted as he and the front line Chargers did just that, allowing the spearhead to push through. Bronwynn’s spirit blade flashed in an outward arc, slicing down three Red Shadows that appeared before her.

There was a roar of challenge from two Behemoths that came stumbling from the heart of the now dying magical storm and Bronwynn turned to face the monstrosities head on. 

“Down, Inquisitor!” Bull ordered as he swung his great axe over her head into the first beast to step into his reach. She rolled to the side with an ebony staff out and tripped up the creature as well. The mage was unsurprised to be pulled bodily out of the way by her lover as he stepped forward to catch the bash of the second Behemoth on his shield. Bronwynn shook her head in amazement when he didn’t buckle under the blow.

“Hold him, Commander!” Solas shouted as he stepped forward himself, his staff held horizontal to the ground as ice flowed from the crystal tip of the ironwood. When the former human was encased in ice Cullen slipped to the side enough to allow the apostate mage to strike the creature just as he did. The heat from the red lyrium as it exploded staggered all four who were standing close. 

“Enough!” Vivienne shouted, she struck the two remaining crystalline monstrosities with several lightning bolts one after another, chaining them together to devastating effect. “Sera! Varric! Make yourselves useful!” she called, only half mocking. From either side of the dark skinned Enchantress arrows and bolts flew in rapid order. Before anyone could take a breath, the two Behemoths were filled with over a dozen of each; the whole field of battle seemed to take a deep breath with the creatures until they collapsed upon the ground in shock.

Cullen grabbed the Inquisitor’s face with his gauntleted hands, being careful not to cut her. He ignored the fighting still going strong despite the line now scattering with the defeat of the most powerful of the opponents.

“Come back to me, my heart!” He didn’t speak loudly enough to be heard beyond her; yet everyone who saw them knew what he said. 

“You keep yourself safe!” She replied, for his ears only as well. 

Unheeding of the danger around them they kissed. It was fleeting, a mere brush of the lips that still engendered a boost of enthusiasm in those soldiers nearest them that spread from those closest to the farthest edge of the front line. The Inquisition forces spread the news that their Inquisitor and her Commander had not given up hope and neither would they.

~*~

Bronwynn and her circle stopped at a clearing filled with broken ruins of elven buildings. They all worked hard to catch their breath as well as their bearings. Dorian, Solas, and Vivienne quickly purified water from the swiftly running river for everyone to drink. 

“Stop being infantile, Sera!” Vivienne scolded as she forced the cup into the younger woman’s hands. “You saw me fill the cup up from the river!” Sera’s face twisted with distrust before Bronwynn took the cup and drank from it herself before dipping the cup into the river once more and showing the stubborn elf what was in the water.

“She could let you drink this and get sick.” Bronwynn said softly and dangerously. The elf swallowed her anger and nodded to show she understood.

“Thanks Viv.” she managed to get out around that anger. Bronwynn looked at the haughty mage with clear instructions, the mage then nodded imperceptibly. 

“You are quite welcome, Sera.” The Rivaini woman said, even managing to sound sincere as she purified the cup a second time.    

Bronwynn sighed and found a fallen tree to sit on. She took the time to look around herself - at the ruins, the forest and her team. Solas and Morrigan were standing slightly away from each other as well as the group while Bull, Cassandra, and Dorian engaged in animated conversation. Cassandra and Blackwall were deep in conversation when Sera wandered over to them to get away from Vivienne. 

Vivienne herself found another log to sit on; once she had ‘cleaned’ it of nature’s leavings. Bronwynn turned her head back to the river to keep Vivienne from seeing her smile, just in time to see Leliana’s shrouded form sidling next to her.

“Ah, Sister Lei.” Bronwynn said softly. “Speak quickly, I think I hear more Red Templars coming.” Leliana merely chuckled darkly.

“After watching your performance earlier, my agents are more likely to prevent them from interrupting now than not.” 

“Well, I’m glad I’m good for something.” Bronwynn’s smile and laugh gave the self deprecating remark the lie it was. 

“Has she turned on you yet?” Leliana asked acerbically, bringing another smile to the Inquisitor’s lips.

“She has no reason; as of yet, to do so.” Bronwynn answered. “When she realizes exactly what the vir’abelasan  _ is _ she will.” Bronwynn said with certainty. 

“And yet you keep her with you?” 

“Better to know where she is than not,” Bronwynn answered. “Besides, she really isn’t looking for power the way you think she is.” the mage went on. “She is looking to be sure she is prepared; although she doesn’t know what for.”

“Hmph.” The Bard snorted. “You defend her…”

“No,” Bronwynn interrupted. “I have an insight you don’t” Now she looked up at her friend.

“You know who her mother is, yes?” she asked the Bard in dwarven.

“Yes, her mother was Flemmeth.” Leliana answered in the same.

“Aye, her mother  _ is _ Flemmeth.” Bronwynn said with a small smile. “But when I met her she carried another name as well.” Now, Leliana gave the Inquisitor a dangerous glare.

“It is not my secret to share, Leliana; and a dangerous one to bandy about.” This did not appease the spymaster, but she let it go because she understood the meaning. 

“What has that to do with her seeking power?”

“Experience and time…” Bronwynn sighed as they both heard the fighting coming from up the path. “Go, do your thing Leliana. We’ll take care of the Temple.” 

The eleven of them moved up the path while Leliana slipped away to help her forces. She didn’t hear Cole shouting about elves attacking them at the same time stragglers of the Red Templar and Venatori were.

“Finally!” Morrigan shouted when they came upon a bulk of Venatori mages attempting to block their way with magic. “A real challenge!” Bronwynn laughed inwardly when Dorian and Bull gave the Witch of the Wilds identical looks of ‘she’s insane’.

“Hit them high, darling” Vivienne said condescendingly. “Solas and I will do the rest.” Bronwynn laughed outright at that before using the Anchor to open the rift that was behind the Venatori; allowing demons to spill out and attack the fanatic Tevinter.

The Tevinter mages; who were unused to fighting physical warriors, were quickly taken out by her front line fighters. It took less than five minutes and the way forward was clear. They passed quickly into the deeper forest.

~*~

Leliana and her agents flit through the deep forest, keeping under cover as much as they could as they ran for dear life. The Bard turned Lay Sister turned Blight Hero turned Left hand of the Divine had fought dragons before, of course; but none like this one. Had she not faced off against the Archdemon herself she would be sure this  _ was _ another Archdemon and not simply a blight corrupted beast.

“Maker!” she heard behind her, one of her agents down. She twisted back and managed to pull the agent out of the way seconds before the dragon blasted the area with lyrium fire. Crystals exploded as the fire hit the ground; thankfully none took hold. The two found a safe place to hide while the dragon lifted laboriously into the air. Leliana wasted no time in dragging the slightly injured woman forward once again.

It felt like an eternity passed before they found the rest of her people at the river where Cullen was now keeping a holding line to prevent reinforcements. She called his name and sagged in relief when he brought a few healers with him to help her with the woman she had been half carrying.

“Damnit, Leliana!” the Commander snarled as he forced her to lie down. “You’re supposed to take care!” This is when she became aware of a burning on her left side, yet she still didn’t know what he meant until he poured a vial of green liquid over her side; then she couldn’t speak or even think for several long moments for the sudden and nearly unbearable pain.

“You’re a good friend, Sister. I’d hate to lose you.” He groused at her.

“What in the Maker’s name have you done to me?” she hissed when she could breath again.

“Kept you from becoming one of them!” he answered with an upward thrust of his chin towards one of the Red Templar Knights who lay moaning in agony. 

“How?” she asked with surprise.

“Used Bronwynn’s cure for the blight on your wound.” He replied as he then handed her a normal healing potion and placed a poultice on the short gash on her side..

“What made you think that would work?” She demanded as she got her breath back.

“Heh,” he snorted softly. “Bronwynn, Blackwall and the other Wardens say they sense the Red Templars the same way they do the Darkspawn.” Here he shrugged. “So,” he said on a sigh. “I had the Tranquil Alchemists back at Skyhold make as much of Bronwynn’s cure as they could for the last few months…” he looked at the soldiers around him. “I figured it couldn’t hurt.” 

Leliana carefully sat up and put her hand on his armored shoulder. 

“You made the right call.” she said. He nodded wearily.

“I just wish it worked on those already turned Red.” he whispered. Leliana looked at the Red Knight whose breath suddenly became shallow pants before stopping altogether and nodded her agreement. 

“She’ll be at the temple, now.” Leliana said softly. Cullen took a deep breath and swallowed. 

“Let’s give her a safe passage back through this treacherous jungle.” The Commander said before rising and helping the Spymaster to her feet. 

~*~

Bronwynn led her Circle and Morrigan through the long tunnel entrance to the Temple of Mythal. Bronwynn kept her elation at being correct to herself, she knew Morrigan would take it personally and Solas would take it out of context. 

The group moved silently to the balcony that overlooked the outer courtyard. There a group of enthralled Wardens stood behind the Darkspawn Emissary as he approached the long bridge that was the only access to the Temple proper. The water beneath the bridge was dark with its unseen depths and barely a ripple could be seen on the surface. On the bridge were a dozen or more elves dressed in armor that looked old and well worn. 

Bronwynn cursed under her breath as she reached out to sense the Wardens. Her only consolation was that these men and women were far enough into their curse they were most likely actually hearing The Calling.

As she and her companions watched the unknown elves confronting the Emissary, seemingly warning him. The looks on their faces made it clear they were unsure what the creature actually was. Morrigan gasped as did Bronwynn when what appeared to be ornamental pillars with brass spheres lit with magic. 

“He’s going to…” Solas said with what sounded like denial. “He can’t!” Sera was about to ask what he meant when the monster grasped both pillars in his grotesque hands, setting off the defensive magic. 

The elves on the bridge had taken flight as Corypheus reached out; this prompted Bronwynn as well as Solas to cast barriers and shields to protect their group. The sudden explosion of electricity temporarily blinded and deafened them as well as threw them back into the tunnel.

They moved as quickly as they could back to the balcony to see that the Darkspawn was lying smoking and charred in a heap before the bridge. Alongside the creature were three Warden Mages, also dead; so it seemed.

Bronwynn and Morrigan were moving slowly as they passed the mutilated body of the Magister and both screamed with shock when the corpse of one of the Wardens began to change and move. It didn’t take long to figure out that Corypheus had somehow taken over the body of the Warden. The duo turned to the others, shouting for them to run to the Temple entrance as they suited word to action.

They were halfway across the bridge when the dragon appeared over the wall screaming. The two mages slipped between the massive doors seconds before Bull, Cassandra and Blackwall managed to slide them shut just as the dragon hit it with lyrium fire. Bronwynn and Morrigan leaned against the interior wall of the tunnel leading into the Temple proper.

“Well that was … unexpected.” Morrigan said, the fright in her voice clear. Bronwynn laughed sardonically in response. 

“Yes, unexpected.” The Warden replied with the same irony. “I’m a Warden, I have studied the Blight, the Darkspawn and Archdemons.” she said with her own barely controlled fear evident. “Yet I don’t know how in the hell he did  _ that _ !” she squeakily exclaimed while shaking slightly.

“Is it possible the dragon has something to do with it?” Cassandra asked, obviously grasping at straws. Bronwynn gave a shocked chuckle.

“Maker, I hope not!” Bronwynn gasped with strangled humor. 

“Perhaps we can just keep going,” Varric said as there was a sudden thump from the doors. “ _ Before _ that dragon gets through.” The others chuckled nervously before moving into the inner courtyard. 

Bronwynn’s breath caught in her throat when the ruins of the Lower Level were revealed in softened light filtered green though the foliage. The entire group fell still as well as silent with the incredible beauty of the greens and golds of the walls and columns. Even Sera was in awe of the beauty the ruins still held. 

Partially covered in vines and dripping with water stood a dias with a pillar in the center surrounded by large ornately carved tiles. There were ancient elven glyphs carved into the pillar as well. Some of them were faded with time but the pillar was still mostly legible. The Inquisitor and her Inner Circle had taken no more than ten steps into the courtyard when an arrow slammed into her left shoulder, just penetrating her silverite armor. 

“Well that’s convenient.” Sera said in a voice that dripped sarcasm. Bronwynn’s head turned to see where the arrow had come from just as a fireball exploded above her head on her now erect shield. 

“Get them!” One of the Red Templar Guard shouted as he and the other three charged the group. Vivienne lashed out with her staff to ice the ground in front of the charging monsters while Varric opened fire on them with Bianca. Dorian was systematically freezing and stunning the Venatori mages that were on the ridge above them so Sera could drill arrows into them.

Blackwall and Cassandra formed a short wall before the mages and archers, shields forward and faces grim; Iron Bull and Cole moved forward quickly to prevent the Templars from flanking the group. Solas concentrated on keeping the four of them shielded from magical attacks as best he could.

Bronwynn had disappeared from view. While her friend's kept the fighters occupied she found the first of the Shadows to engage. The Inquisitor stepped from the Veil she had created from the Fade with her left palm spewing flames into the creature’s face and the fingers of her right hand weaving an intricate pattern. The roots of the nearest tree wrapped around the Shadow’s feet to trip it up and pull it down. The mage summoned her spirit blade to quickly end the monster before it could recover. 

“Down!” Bronwynn heard in her head and she dropped, rolling to the left without question. Cole flew over her and into the Red Templar Shadow that had snuck up on her. She caught only fleeting shadows and blurs of movement as the young man used his spirit abilities to flash around the doomed man. The Inquisitor shouted a word of power and the creature fell to the ground.

Panting, she looked around and saw the others had killed the rest. Part of the mage was grateful the fight was short while another part wondered if she’d ever get the images out of her head. 

Solas had gone ahead of the party up the stairs. His shout of frustration was followed by a long, hollow, gong like metallic clang. The others had crowded behind the elven mage by the time Bronwynn made it up the stairs. She immediately saw the issue.

The doors were magically sealed. 

Returning to the lower courtyard, Bronwynn and Morrigan stepped onto the dias, looking down as the tiles they stepped on lit up with a soft golden glow. The women stopped before the pillar to read it.  Bronwynn was able to make out enough of the writing through the vines and eroded words to know that she had been correct about the Temple. This  _ was _ the Temple to Mythal and here  _ her _ vir’abelasan dwelled. 

“So you were correct, Inquisitor.” Morrigan said softly and sadly. Clearly she had read the same passage. Bronwynn snorted at the sound.

“Oh, please Morrigan. Don’t behave as if you didn’t know there was  _ something _ here to activate the mirror.  _ You _ were the one who said they required  _ keys _ .” The redhead reminded the black haired witch sarcastically. “I just put two and two together.”

“Besides,” she continued. “I  _ did _ ask you if you thought he was after the Well of Sorrows.” Morrigan rolled her eyes at her counterpart. 

“Yes.” The shapeshifter conceded. “Now I suppose you’ll say your superior education allowed you to put that together?” She snapped.

“No, I’ll say it’s my larger library.” The Inquisitor replied absently as she was still reading the pillar. Morrigan sighed in frustration when Bronwynn said no more. Once again silent, all that could be heard, was the flowing of the water in the pools around the courtyard and the chirping birds.

“Let’s find our way after the Venatori and Templars, Inquisitor.” Bull said impatiently. “We’re wasting precious time.” Bronwynn turned and looked about the courtyard, the mosaics calling to her need for research and preservation; yet Compassion let her feel the fear and worry of her soldiers as they fought to keep the way open for her party. 

“Yes, let us go.” She replied with determination as she nodded to Morrigan, who quickly stepped off the dias. Solas was the only one who made no complaints as Bronwynn started moving around the pillar. 

“You want through the door,” Morrigan said with her typical sarcasm. “You’ll let her finish.” 

“Bah!” Sera cried. Iron Bull and Cole echoed her sentiment while the tiles rang with musical chimes as they lit with soft golden light as she followed the runes. When she had reached the end there was a slightly discordant clash of sound and the lights went out, the door was open though. 

~*~

The eleven people went through them as quietly as they could. Their silence allowed them to hear an argument from deeper inside. They moved closer as silently as they could to those arguing. 

“Enough, Calpernia! The door is locked and Corypheus made it clear, whichever of us reaches it first will be the Vessel.” Bronwynn recognized that voice as the beggar in Lowtown or the Docks of Kirkwall who had helped runaway mages get to the Wardens for rations of lyrium.

“This will be the fastest way to reach the Well.” The leader of the Red Templars said. It was clear from his tone he was fast losing patience. 

“There is a better and faster way; one where we can avoid the elves.” The woman said insistently. Samson growled impatiently before speaking again.

“Then, you figure out how to open the blasted door, mage.” Samson sneered. “I will take the fastest route”. 

“Fine, Samson.” The woman snapped “Have it your way.” When she stepped back to throw a line of fire into the ground which caused an explosion, the Inquisitor and her team could see her clearly for the first time. The ground shook slightly as debris flew through the air to hit the wall ahead of the Templars and Venatori. One of the Red Templars had turned to avoid looking at the explosion and cried out.

“The Inquisitor!” Bronwynn didn’t wait for the others to turn before she blasted them with chain lightning.

“Stop her!” Samson and Calpernia called at the same time before they both scattered. Samson and all but six Templars jumped down the hole Calpernia had made while Calpernia and all but three of her Venatori fled down the stairs.

The Inner Circle wasted no time with questions or pursuit, they simply took out the remaining fighters and mages as quickly as possible. Once done, they gathered around the hole Calpernia had made in the floor. Beneath them, they could see a darkened room.

“What are we waiting for?” Cassandra demanded as Bronwynn hesitated, frowning at the hole.

“There is a better way.” Morrigan interjected. “As she said.” Bronwynn sighed and frowned at the woman.

“While we debate, our soldiers are dying!” Bull shouted, causing Bronwynn to turn that frown on him.

“You think  _ I _ don’t know that? That  _ I _ don’t know the risks?” she demanded of him; of them all. They fell silent in shock; she rarely turned her temper on them. 

“Morrigan is right.” Bronwynn said after a moment of shaking her head. “It will actually be faster if we complete the Trials of Mythal.” Bronwynn took a deep breath to steady herself before raising her head once more.

“From my studies I believe there are three puzzles here. Solas, take Bull and Cole with you. I believe there is one to the northeast, west and east. I want you to take the northeast puzzle.” She watched as the urge to deny her order rolled across his oval face before he seemed to realize she was making sure they could get through as quickly as possible as well as making sure that Morrigan wasn’t left to her own devices. 

“Vivienne,” she turned to the dark skinned mage with an equally somber look. “Take Cassandra and Varric with you and move to the western puzzle.” 

“How am I to know how to solve it, my dear?” Vivienne asked quietly. She knew Bronwynn wouldn’t ask her to perform some vulgar ritual if it weren’t necessary; she also knew it wouldn’t require blood. Bronwynn pointed back the way they had come. 

“The tiles will stay lit so long as you’re on the right track.” The Warden said. Vivienne nodded and then looked again. 

“I might feel more comfortable if I have Sera as well.” The Enchanter said, and they all knew how it pained her to admit that. Sera didn’t even snort in humor but simply nodded and slipped in behind the older woman. 

“Right.” She said fiercely. “I got yer back, bitch.” Vivienne smiled and led the other three through the doors.

“We’ll take the eastern puzzle,” she said to Dorian, Blackwall and Morrigan.

“Are you really expecting trouble?” Dorian asked. 

“We have no idea where Calpernia got to.” Blackwall reminded the handsome mage.

“True; but since when can’t we handle a few Venatori?” 

“Since I don’t know where they are.” Bronwynn answered before waving them all through the large ornately carved double doors. 

“Whew.” Blackwall whistled impressed. “These ancient elves truly loved decorations.” Morrigan, Dorian and Bronwynn laughed softly.

“This was one of their main gods.” Bronwynn said respectfully. “Indeed; Mythal was considered the All-Mother and Protector of the Elvhenan.”

“She could calm her husband Elgar’nan when he was in a full rage.” Morrigan said, and though her voice carried some scorn, there was also respect for the tale.

“The goddess of Justice, Motherhood and Love she is the one that even now is called upon for protection.” Bronwynn said. 

“But who was she  _ really _ ?” Morrigan asked with a scornful half laugh.

“All your studies, and you don’t know?” Bronwynn asked slyly. 

“I suppose you do?” Morrigan asked yet again. 

By this time the group had reached the puzzle Bronwynn had appointed for herself. The redhaired mage didn’t answer, simply moved up to the raised area.

“Stay here, keep watch.” She told her friends as she went up the short steps to survey the puzzle. She made short work of following the desired path and had just locked the last piece when they all heard fighting close by. Before they could join their companions, they too were ambushed.

“I thank you, Inquisitor!” Calpernia shouted as she came into the puzzle room, a ball of fire flying before her. It splashed harmlessly upon Dorian’s shield of ice. “For opening the way for me!” She waved her hands and another fireball shot forth, to once again be snuffed out.

“We don’t have to do this!” Bronwynn shouted angrily. She didn’t want to fight a woman whose only crime was wanting to save her country. She; like Dorian, was a patriot; they were just going about it in vastly different ways. 

“I will not have my place usurped by that lyrium addicted  _ Templar _ reject!” the blond woman shouted; conjuring a blizzard to freeze the small group. Bronwynn slashed the air with a silverite staff tipped with an ovoid obsidian stone. Calpernia’s jaw dropped open in fear as the Inquisitor seemed to inhale the magic into her staff. Bronwynn turned the extra energy into a solid barrier for Blackwall, Vivienne and Morrigan as they took on the half dozen Venatori the Tevinter mage had brought with her to this fight. In the distance she could hear the other two groups shouting as they also fought.

‘ _ Compassion, is there a way to make her hear me? _ ’ She asked the spirit, hoping she could get the other woman to pause long enough to tell her what Corypheus had in store for her should she succeed.

‘ _ I - I am sorry, my friend _ ’ the spirit answered sadly. ‘ _ Her heart is closed _ .’ Bronwynn closed her eyes briefly before trying anyway. 

“Calpernia, Corypheus has lied to you, repeatedly!” She called. Blackwall, Dorian and Morrigan were quick to take out what Venatori she had with her, but the woman herself was a powerful mage. 

“I will do what I must to save my country!” The other woman shouted, her passion clear. “He thinks he uses me; let him!” Calpernia managed to knock the fighter back and down with a force spell; his grunt of pain angering his Senior.

“Morrigan!” Bronwynn called and the Witch of the Wilds answered by leaping towards the wall that was on the Tevinter woman’s right. In an instant the shapeshifter did what she knew best and the sudden change from woman to wolf frightened the blond mage into faltering her own shields. This was the opening Dorian needed and he took it. His necromancy took over her mind and conjured up her deepest fears. Bronwynn steeled her ears and her heart to the doomed woman’s terrified scream so she could hit her with a constant jolt of electricity. 

Morrigan, in wolf form latched onto the now stunned and silent mage’s throat. Everyone heard the snap of bones as her powerful jaws closed. 

Morrigan shifted back and the four of them panted with adrenaline as the other two groups joined them.

“Inquisitor!” Iron Bull frantically called.

“Bronwynn!” Cassandra shouted at the same time with the same tone.

“I’m fine!” Bronwynn shouted back. “I’m also going to demand that my fiance absolve you of any wrongdoing should I actually take a fatal injury.” The frustration in her voice with that statement had everyone laughing in relief. 

“I wonder if that’s all of them.” Varric said after a moment. 

“I doubt it.” Dorian answered.

“We don’t have much time, let’s keep moving.” Bronwynn said dismissively before leading them back into the main chamber then through the now open door into another room. 

“The Petitioners Chamber.” Bronwynn whispered softly; although her voice still echoed throughout the empty chamber. A quarter of the way in she could hear footsteps behind them as the doors they had entered closed.

Halfway through, they neared a dais with no stairs. The group stopped when Bronwynn signaled. An elf wearing strange armor appeared on the dais with arms folded across his chest. He wore hooded armor that covered his eyes. With his head down they could just make out his mouth turned down in a deep frown.

“More intruders to the Temple.” He snarled. Bronwynn’s eyes quickly took in the design on the armor and the vallaslin upon his face. Knowledge whispered the answer she was seeking.

“Sentinel to Mythal.” She said, causing him to raise his head to glare at her directly. “I have no quarrel with those who serve her.” His face was smooth, body fit and he didn’t appear to be much past his thirties; his dark eyes though belied that. They showed his true age. 

“How do  _ you _ know what we are?” 

“Not all the knowledge of the Elvhenan was lost; even if most of it is broken with time.” She answered.”I am here to stop the other invaders.” She took a deep breath before she continued.

“The people you fight are my enemies; and their master seeks the Eluvian as well as the vir’abelasan.” His eyes narrowed.

“And you do not?” he demanded. She smiled sadly.

“I will not lie to you, Sentinel.  _ I _ don’t  _ want _ it; but I know it would be better off under my control than that of the Darkspawn Emissary Corypheus.” 

“You seek justice?” he asked humorlessly. She shook her head in response.

“No, I do not.” Once more she shocked the man with her honesty. Mythal would approve of this one, even if she was a quickling.

“What is your name?” He demanded suddenly, his golden skin had gone slightly pale.

“Bronwynn.” She answered. “And you are called?”

“Abelas.” He answered. 

“How do I respond to you?” He wondered aloud. The ancient elf looked at her group and could see patience there, even with those that wanted to fight. 

“This Corypheus is of Tevinter,” Dorian said suddenly. “Those that destroyed your temples.” To this the Sentinel gave another bitter laugh.

“The Elvhenan fell long before we closed these sacred doors. The war with Tevinter was akin to carrion picking over a carcass.” Dorian’s gasp of disbelief amused the man for a brief moment. 

“You wish to stop these invaders?” He asked the Inquisitor then, dismissing the others. 

“Yes.” she answered. “Your people aren’t going to be able to stop them without us.” 

“You speak the truth yet again, Shemlen.” He seemed to think for a moment. “You at least honored the Rights. We will guide you to where their leader is.” He squared his shoulders before raising his head once again.

“I will not, however allow the Well to be defiled. I would sooner destroy it than see that happen.” He then turned and sprinted off. Morrigan shouted ‘no’ and shifted into a crow to take off after him.

Solas cried out for the witch to stop but Bronwynn merely shook her head.  
“There she goes, I thought she’d leave us sooner.” Bronwynn commented when she heard a very crackly voice calling from the left side of the room.

“This way!” The female mage called in Elvhenan. It was almost so ancient that Bronwynn wasn’t quite sure that was what she had said.

The truly ancient elf moved quite spryly for one of her years and the others had to hustle to keep up with her. Bronwynn ordered the others to ignore the fighting they passed. They didn’t have time to get bogged down. 

Bronwynn was near to panting when the Sentinel Mage opened the final door for them so that they could enter into the Inner Sanctum. They arrived in time to see Raleigh Samson and his Red Templar Knights finish several Sentinels. Samson had turned to his men, praising them for their brutishness when Bronwynn interrupted.

“Samson!” The mage shouted, anger ringing clear above the ambient noise of the ruined temple.

“Ah, Inquisitor. You’re too late,” the man responded, his voice sounded more than gravelly. She could hear the thickness of the red lyrium in it. She didn’t need her Warden senses to know he was consumed by the blighted material.

“You think to stop us?” he gloated. “We are so much more than what the Chantry made us.” Bronwynn shook her head.

“Maddox was the only proof that you were ever a good man.” 

“I am what the Chantry made me, and so much more now thanks to Corypheus.” He snarled at her, guilt on his face.

“He uses you!” she shouted at him.

“I don’t care.” he admitted. “Let me show you true strength!” With that he slapped a rune that was on the chestplate of his armor. She watched in horror as he began to physically grow before her eyes. 

“We didn’t  _ have _ to do this, Samson.” She said softly, holding out the rune that Dagna had given her. He saw it, but before he could do anything she activated it. “Of course, like most fools playing at being gods you forget you’re not invincible.” He shrieked angrily as he felt his strength leaving him.

“My armor! I can’t survive without it! KILL HER!” he shouted at his Knights. Bronwynn made no move to defend herself against the Templar Knights, as she knew Bull, Cassandra, and Blackwall would keep them from coming near her. Just as she knew Varric, Cole and Sera would keep any Red Shadows off her back. The redhaired mage stood her ground and with Vivienne, Dorian and Solas; she bombarded the addicted man with spell after spell, wearing him down and keeping him off balance. It wasn’t long before Bull, Cole and Blackwall turned their attacks to the crazed man. Cole used his spirit abilities to flit about him with what appeared to be butterfly type strikes that were quickly bleeding him dry.

“Freeze the bastard!” Blackwall called out as Samson managed to strike Cassandra’s shield hard enough to stagger her slightly. The four mages hit him with an ice spell simultaneously.

“Damn!” Cassandra said when she saw the man was still moving; albeit quite slowly. 

“Die, bastard!” Bull shouted before striking him down with his great axe. The man collapsed, unconscious. 

“He’s  _ still alive _ ?” Vivienne asked with panting breaths. 

“Fine. We’ll take him back to Skyhold. Judge him there.” Bronwynn replied between her own heaving breaths.

Sera shrieked in surprise when Abelas suddenly appeared before her to run past, creating stairs made of vines as he ran. Morrigan, still in bird form flew just behind him. The others quickly followed the pair up to the Well of Sorrows.

Abelas stopped suddenly when Morrigan landed in front him, shifting into herself as she did so. Behind her was the Well. Bronwynn could feel it calling to her as she reached the top of the stair. It wasn’t deep, perhaps a foot or so. Merely three steps into the depression. Liquid filled the pool and it gently lapped over the bottom step to caress the second. It wasn’t water; but Bronwynn didn’t know exactly what else it could be.

Behind the Well, nearly imbedded in the curved wall stood an intact Eluvian. The mirror was dark and cloudy but Bronwynn was grateful it was whole.

“Well.” Abelas started then stopped at a loss for words.

“He would destroy the Well!” Morrigan said with a whine.

“Yes, and it would be his right, since he’s the last of Mythal’s Sentinels” Bronwynn said reasonably. “A terrible loss that would actually hurt the remaining elves far more than it would his own people.” She finished as she looked to the ancient elf. She could see his dark eyes flash with repugnance.

“Shadows who walk the forest with vallaslin? They are not  _ my _ people.” 

“No, they are the  _ victims _ of  _ your _ hubris.” Bronwynn admonished. “Her Sentinels failed to protect her, failed in their  _ service _ to her.” The man reeled back as if she had slapped him.

“You  _ could _ teach your cousins.” she said viciously. “Lasa ghilan*!” 

Abelas stared at the human woman who spoke so passionately. 

“You care what happens to these delltash banal'ras*?” Abelas demanded.

“I care about what happens to  _ all  _ the people of Thedas.”She replied. 

“It matters not,” he said bitterly. “You humans have defiled all that we held dear.” He waved his hands to indicate the Temple.

“Time has done that, Abelas” she said softly. “Not even the Evanuris could hold that back.” The golden Sentinel looked upon the Well of Sorrows in defeat.

“Know this.” He said suddenly. “This is a spring of knowledge. All who served Mythal deposited their wisdom and experiences here. Should you drink of it, you will be bound to the will of Mythal. A servant to her as we are.”

“Bound to a mythical being?” Morrigan sneered. “Who may or may not have existed as a mortal?” 

“Mythal was betrayed and murdered by those she loved and trusted.” Abelas said sadly as he turned away. Solas said something in elvish that Bronwynn didn’t quite catch. She thought he said ‘now you are free; may you find a happier name’ but she wasn’t sure.

They watched as Abelas strode away, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Solas broke the ensuing silence, startling everyone.

“His name means ‘sorrow’. I said I hoped he finds a new name.” The others acknowledged the statement with slight confusion when Morrigan turned to face the well.

“It seems we were both right, Inquisitor” Morrigan said as she pointed to the enchanted mirror. “An intact Eluvian and it’s key, the Well of Sorrows.” The dark haired woman seemed taken aback as she stared at the pool. 

“I did not expect it to feel so hungry.” Her voice was almost a whisper. Bronwynn responded with an ironic laugh.

“Knowledge begets hunger.” The redhead said. 

“I am willing to pay the price the well demands.” Morrigan rushed to say. “I am the best suited to use this in your service.” 

“More likely to your own ends.” Solas snapped in response. 

“What do you know of  _ my ends _ elf?” Morrigan snapped back.

“You are a glutton drooling at the sight of a feast.  _ You _ cannot be trusted.” He responded, Bronwynn slashed her hand through the air between them.

“Will you drink from the well, Solas?” Bronwynn asked the bald elf. 

“No!” He answered emphatically. “I will not and do not ask it of me.”

“Any other thoughts?” She asked the group at large.

“She is correct in one thing,” Solas said angrily. “We cannot let Corypheus have it.”

“It’s called the  _ Well  _ of  _ Sorrows _ .” Sera said passionately. “ _ No one  _ should go in the Well of  _ Sorrows _ .” 

“You cannot want to drink from the Well.” Morrigan demanded and Bronwynn laughed.

“Think you know me well enough to determine that, do you?  _ I _ have always desired  _ knowledge _ , Witch.” Bronwynn said reasonably. “Why wouldn’t I be willing to bind myself to Mythal for all eternity in order to gain this?” Bronwynn’s green eyes glittered with malice as she spoke, setting the other woman on the defensive.

“You really believe Mythal still exists?” Morrigan demanded and Bronwynn laughed.

“I do, although it matters not what  _ I _ believe does it?” Bronwynn asked. “It’s what  _ you _ believe. You’re the one that wants to drink.”

“You are the Inquisitor!” Morrigan demanded. “ _ You _ cannot take this risk!” Before Bronwynn could answer Cassandra snorted loudly.

“I agree she shouldn’t take the risk, but you only say this because you want the power for yourself.” The Seeker shook her head when the apostate turned to glare at her. Bronwynn waved her left hand, the glow of the anchor leaving a short trail as she did. 

“Enough.” She said. “You want to drink, drink.” Bronwynn said. “Just remember you knew of the geis when the consequences come to roost.” She warned. Morrigan frowned and clearly wanted to argue but couldn’t think of an argument. 

A long moment passed and the Witch carefully stepped into the waiting pool. Once she reached the center the  _ water _ began to rise to surround her. Bronwynn put out her arms to prevent anyone else from stepping forward to help the woman. It was only a moment before she was lying curled in the center of the now dry recess. Bronwynn stepped down to help her rise when they heard the dragon cry. 

Eleven sets of eyes turned to the sound only to see the Darkspawn Emissary Corypheus on the balcony that overlooked the Well. His scream of rage could be heard across the Wilds as he took flight.

“Time’s up!” Bull shouted and Morrigan activated the Eluvian. Bronwynn waited until the rest were through before leaping in herself. They watched the frame of the mirror shake from the impact Corypheus made as he crashed against the now solid surface.

“Keep going!” Morrigan shouted, leading them through the Crossroads to her own Eluvian. 

Bronwynn leapt through the open portal and landed with a roll, turning to face the mirror as Morrigan sealed it once again. 

“ _ That _ ,” Vivienne said while catching her own breath. “Was entirely  _ too _ close.” 

“Viv,” Sera said with a shaky voice. “I’m buying you a round of the worst swill the Herald’s Rest has to offer.” 

“Sera darling. I’m going to take you up on that.” The two disparate women marched together out the door, followed by all but Bronwynn and Morrigan.

“Thwarted.” Bronwynn whispered to herself. 

“We have a little time before he regroups.” Morrigan answered. 

“Take as much as you can to figure out what you can do now to help, Morrigan.” Bronwynn answered before turning to leave. 

“What will you do?”

“Now?” Bronwynn asked. “Going to join in on that very terrible swill.”

  
  


*The translations can be found in the Dragon Age Wiki. 

[ http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Elven_language ](http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Elven_language)


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter 48**

**Back to Haven**

Standing at the left corner of their bed, holding the curtain aside, Bronwynn watched her Templar sleeping. He and the other advisers had arrived late in the night; just past midnight. Bronwynn had asked her spirit friends to let him know she and her Inner Circle had fled through the Eluvian so he wouldn’t worry  _ too _ much. 

From the condition of her Council and the small troop that had returned to the keep with them, they hadn’t stopped for long when they did stop. Bronwynn and Cassandra had ensured the garrison knew to let them sleep in; to only disturb them if the keep was under attack. 

Now it was mid-morning, she was loathe to wake him but the four of them needed to decide what their next step was going to be. She swallowed and moved away from the bed. She couldn’t do it. The fight had been hard on her troops, and harder on her Commander. True, having the Wardens as well as Orlais’ Chevaliers on top of the Templars and Mages fighting with the actual Inquisition soldiers meant they had lost fewer men and women. It didn’t make those losses any easier to bear, however. 

Bronwynn left her tower and made her way to the interior garden to speak with Morrigan. It had been twelve days since she and her Inner Circle had returned to Skyhold, she wanted to find out what Morrigan may have been able to learn from the Well. 

She entered the room Morrigan had set up as her office to see Leliana seemingly fretting before the activated mirror. 

“What’s going on?” Bronwynn asked with concern.

“I had come to ask the Witch a question and she was in a panic.” The Bard’s accent was heavy with worry. “Then she ran into the mirror; I was just about to send a page for you.” 

“Kieran is the one who activated the Eluvian.” Leilana went on to inform the Inquisitor. 

“What?” Bronwynn turned to the Bard in surprise.

“She said no more, simply ran through the portal. What shall I do?” Leliana asked. 

“Get some Templars and a mage in here to keep anything that isn’t Morrigan or myself from coming out.” Bronwynn frowned as she looked at the glowing space. “I’ll see if I can find her quickly.” Bronwynn hastened through the portal to suit action to words.

Inside, she stumbled to a halt in shock. This was the Fade,  _ not _ the Crossroads. 

The amount of power it would take to do this was astronomical and Bronwynn’s heart stopped to think that Kieran was able to do this. She reached out to Knowledge who answered quickly. 

_ Please tell me if you sense Morrigan within a few minutes of here?  _

_ Yes, _ the spirit said, and Bronwynn was surprised to hear a hint of nervousness in its voice.  _ To the east. _ Bronwynn moved to her right and within half a dozen steps she found a dirty, unkempt and crying Morrigan wringing her hands as she moved from left to right with panicked movements.

“Morrigan!” Bronwynn called. “Thank heavens!” She tried to place a calming hand on the other woman’s shoulder only to have it shrugged off.

“I have to find him!” Morrigan said, her distress evident. “He shouldn’t have been able to do _this_! _Why_ would he do this? _How_ _could_ he do this?” Bronwynn heard tears forming once again in the Witch’s voice and grabbed her hands, forcing her to stop twisting and turning.

“Please, breathe.” Bronwynn said firmly. “I have asked my friends to help. Despite this being the Fade, he can’t be far.” 

“He could be literally  _ anywhere _ !” Morrigan wailed. “Please! Help me look, just a little longer.” Bronwynn nodded, but held Morrigan in place for a moment more. 

“This way.” The redhaired mage led the other woman quickly down a path. It was only a few minutes more before they found Kieran standing before a kneeling woman with energy flowing between them. 

“Is that…” Bronwynn began, to have the other speak.

“Mother.” It was clear from the tone that the younger Witch of the Wilds was not happy to see the older Witch of the Wilds.

“Mother!” Kieran cried happily as he stopped the flow and turned to the women. Flemeth stood up as he did so.

“Well now. This is a surprise, is it not?” Flemeth said sardonically. Browynn chuckled.

“Quite warms the heart.” She responded. How have you been Flemeth?” Morrigan gasped and turned her head to the Inquisitor.

“You  _ know _ my mother?”

“Met her in the Wilds shortly after I met you, actually.” Bronwynn said as she nodded. “We had several wonderful conversations.” Morrigan turned back to face her mother, a look of both regret and hurt on her oval face. 

“We did as well, once.” The Witch said softly. “Give me back my son.” She then demanded. 

“As if I were holding him hostage.” The ancient woman said with a harsh laugh. “She’s always been ungrateful, you see.”

“ _ Ungrateful _ ?” Morrigan cried. “I  _ know _ how you plan to extend your life, you wicked crone!.” Her dark head shook in denial. “You will  _ not _ have me and you will  _ not _ have  _ my son _ !” 

The shapeshifter began to summon energy for a spell, her intent to attack the older Witch of the Wilds clear.

“Enough, you’ll endanger the boy.” Flemeth said sternly before sending a wave of energy at her daughter, knocking her back and stopping the spell.

“What have you done to me?” Morrigan gasped with shock and fear.

“I have done nothing to you.  _ You _ drank from the Well of your own volition.” Was the reasonable reply. Once again Morrigan gasped. 

“You,” she took a deep breath. “Are Mythal.” After another moment passed she turned accusing eyes to the redheaded mage behind her. “You  _ knew _ ! All along, you knew!” 

“Yes.” Bronwynn answered without remorse. “If you bothered to think on it, you did too.” The look of pain on Morrigan’s face softened Bronwynn’s next words.

“Would you have believed me if had told you?” She asked the other. The shapeshifter turned to look at her mother and son as they stood there. Asha’belannar lightly tapped Kieran on his shoulder and he ran to his mother, leaping into her arms. She held him tightly before he gently broke away. 

“I’m sorry mother.” He said with his soft voice. “I heard her calling, she said now was the time.” He smiled sadly before returning to Flemeth’s side. 

“I do not understand.” Morrigan said brokenly. Bronwynn imagined it had been a long time since she’d uttered those words aloud.

“Once,” Flemeth said with her own expression of sadness. “I was but a lonely woman crying out in the lonely darkness for Justice.”  She smiled, although it wasn’t a happy one.

“She came to me, a wisp of an ancient being and granted me all that I wanted and more.” Bronwynn could feel the spirit of compassion with her shivering with its’ desire to comfort both the woman and the spirit. 

“I have carried Mythal through the ages ever since, seeking the justice denied to her.” She waited then, for one of the younger women to speak. 

“You hear the voices, girl.” She directed to her daughter. “What do they say?” Morrigan closed her eyes as she listened and her voice shook as she answered.

“They say… that you speak the truth.” She admitted. Bronwynn heard the sob she was holding back.

“Truth is not an end, girl; but a beginning,” Flemeth said as if to remind the younger woman of something.

“A herald indeed.” Flemeth said with a brighter chuckle as she turned to Bronwynn. “Shouting to the heavens, a harbinger of a new age.”

“Heh,” Bronwynn chuffed a laugh at the title. “Soon I may have as many names as you, Milady.” She gave a shallow bow with her flippant response. The older woman laughed with the younger before Morrigan interrupted angrily.

“You follow her whims? Do you even  _ know _ what she is?”

“You seek to preserve the powers that were, but to what end?” Flemeth asked her daughter. “It is because I taught you, girl. Because things happened that were never meant to happen.” 

Morrigan could hear the passion in her mother's voice. A passion she had never before heard. 

“She was betrayed as I was betrayed - as the world was betrayed!” Rage and grief infused the older woman’s words as she spoke. 

“Mythal crawled and clawed her way through the ages to me, and I  _ will _ see her  _ avenged _ !” Her impassioned words echoed throughout the fade, the emotion multiplied with the sound.

“Alas, so long as the music plays, we dance.” She ended on a sad sigh.

Bronwynn frowned and asked.

“Will you help us?” 

“Once I have what I came for.” The answer was followed by a glance at Kieran, who had kept silent through the entire exchange. 

Morrigan followed her mother’s eyes and shook her head in adamant denial.

“No. I will not allow it.”

“He carries a piece of what once was snatched from the edge of darkness. You know this.”

“He is  _ not  _ your pawn, Mother. I will not allow you to use him.” Morrigan was leaning forward as she spoke now.

“Have you not used him?” The white haired woman sneered at her daughter. “Was that not your purpose, the reason you agreed to his creation?” 

“That was then.” Came the daughters reply. “Now he...he is my  _ son _ .” Within that one word was a world’s worth of love. The sound of it appeared to shock Flemeth.

“Flemeth extends her life by possessing the bodies of her daughters, Inquisitor.” Morrigan said out of the blue. 

“So I have heard.” The redhead acknowledged.

“This was the fate she intended for me,” her voice began to break. “I thwarted her and now she intends to have Kieran instead.” 

“Truly, Flemeth? You wish to merge with the youngster because he carries Urthemiel?” 

“He is more than that!” Morrigan insisted.

“As am I, yet do you hear me complain? Our destinies are not so easily avoided, dear girl.” The older woman said.

“Mother, I  _ have _ to.” Kieran said sadly, almost pleadingly. His voice sounded broken.

“You do not belong to her, Kieran. Neither of us do.” Morrigan said swiftly, emphatically.

“Why wait until now to come for him?” Bronwynn wondered aloud.

“Morrigan cleverly hid him from me, until now.” Mythal’s bearer said with a gleam of mischievousness.

“‘Twas the well…” Morrigan sighed.

“Always grasping beyond your reach, despite all that I taught you.” Was Flemeth’s response. Morrigan swallowed with pain and fell to her knees.

“Kieran, I…” Tears began to fall from the woman's eyes. Kieran turned to his grandmother, a silent conversation passed between them.

“As you wish.” Flemeth said with a smile for him. “Hear my proposal dear girl.” She turned golden eyes to her daughter.

“Let me take the lad and you are free of me. I will never interfere with or harm you again.” She had smiled pleasantly while she said this. Now her expression became menacing.

“Or keep the lad with you… and you will never be safe from me. I will have my due.”

“He returns with me.” Morrigan answered immediately.

“Decided so quickly.” Flemeth taunted.

“Do whatever you wish.” Was the answer. Implacable and sure. “Take over my body now, if you must. Kieran will be free of your clutches.” The younger woman had stepped forward once again to make her point. “I am many things, but I will  _ not _ be the mother you were to me.”

Her statement gave the older woman pause. Her face moved from maliciousness to confused hurt before she then turned back to her grandson.

Another wordless conversation seemed to pass between them when she took his hands in hers. An orb of energy passed from him to her and they both smiled.

“No more dreams?” The young man asked.

“No more dreams.” His grandmother answered. Kieran turned and ran to his mother once again.

“A soul is not forced upon the unwilling, Morrigan. You were never in any danger from me.” Flemeth said to her child, her own voice threatening to crack under some nameless emotion. There was a small genuine smile on the woman’s lips for the first time since the encounter began.

“Listen to the voices. They will teach you as I never did.” She turned and strode down a path that appeared for her in the mists of the Fade.

“Wait!” Morrigan called, but she was gone. 

The three returned to Morrigan’s Eluvian and stepped through. Leliana, three templar archers and Vivienne waited on the other side. All five people gave a sigh of relief when they recognized them. Morrigan deactivated the mirror and the protectors  left. 

“Are you okay, Kieran? You are not hurt?” Morrigan asked her son.

“I feel lonely,” Was his sad reply. Morrigan smiled sadly in response, gently squeezing his shoulders and nodding to show she understood. He smiled in return and followed after the others. Bronwynn saw Vivienne on the other side of the door reach out and hug the boy before the door closed behind him.

“She wanted the Old God’s soul all along.” Morrigan said with wonder. “Is it worth reminding myself that perhaps I do not know everything after all?” She asked rhetorically.

“My mother has the soul of an elven goddess - or whatever ‘ _ Mythal _ ’ truly was - and her plans are unknown to me.”

“I gather that’s the part that truly bothers you, hmm?” Bronwynn asked with humor. Morrigan gave her an annoyed glare.

“You  _ truly _ had  _ no idea _ what she was?” Bronwynn asked doubtfully.

“I knew she kept the truth from me. I even suspected she was not really human.” Morrigan answered “But  _ this _ ?”

“I always thought the elven ‘ _ gods _ ’ were little more than glorified rulers, but now I have doubt.” The apostate Witch shifted with unease. “And doubt - is an uncomfortable thing, Inquisitor.” 

“Be thankful  _ you _ did not drink from the well.” She said. “I am evidently tied to my mother for eternity.”

“You forget, Morrigan.” Bronwynn said gently. “I  _ knew _ what Abelas meant when he said you would be bound to Mythal.” Morrigan’s golden eyes widened as she remembered.

“Yes, you did.” She sighed and sat down in one of the chairs that stood before her desk. 

“Besides,” Bronwynn went on with a wicked smile. “We are always tied to our parents.” She reached out and squeezed the pale woman’s shoulder before leaving the office. 

~*~

Bronwynn laughed lightly as she caught Cullen and Josephine failing to cover their yawns when she entered the War Room. They were rumpled and appeared to have rushed through their ablutions. 

“I hope you got enough rest my friends.” She said, nodding at Morrigan as she strode through the door one of the guards opened for her. “Of course, Cullen seems to have skipped his normal routine this afternoon.” she teased. The three other women in the room giggled as the man blushed while he ran strong fingers through his disheveled hair. 

“You let me sleep far too long, Inquisitor.” He grumbled at her, widening her smile.

“You let  _ all _ of us sleep too long.” Josephine accused. Bronwynn sighed and nodded, showing no remorse.

“My group was able to rest.” she said. Looking at each of them in turn she continued. 

“I knew that once you arrived none of you would have a chance to rest as well as we did.” She shrugged helplessly. “I wanted you to get as much sleep as you could; before we dove into the final crisis.” she pointed to the map almost helplessly.

Silence filled the space, green tinged light filtered through the various windows in the room while a chilly breeze played with the map and other papers on the table. Leliana was the first to break the silence.

“We have no idea where either Corypheus or the dragon have gone.” Leliana admitted with frustration.

“Surely there must be some way of tracking the beast?” Josephine asked in alarm. Cullen was shaking his head before she finished speaking.

“They fled the moment the Inquisitor and her Circle fled through the Eluvian.”He reminded her. “We lost them; and we need some way to find them now, before he manages to regroup.” The Commander said vehemently. Bronwynn nodded her agreement.

“Morrigan, what does the Well say?” She asked the Apostate mage. 

“That he will not wait for you to find him.” 

“Do you have a way to match his dragon?” Bronwynn asked with curiosity.

“I do, and I can.” She responded. 

The Anchor in Bronwynn’s left hand flared with power as the sound of thunder filled the sky and the heavens were once again green with the Breach. 

“Well, I guess that answers that.” Bronwynn sneered as she forced the Anchor to subside. 

“Our forces are still in the Arbor Wilds.” Cullen said beseechingly. He didn’t want her to go without backup. 

“He’s counting on that, Commander. I can’t wait. It’s now or never, and as I plan on marrying you; it’s now!” she exclaimed. A short moment of shocked silence followed before everyone in the room burst into nervous laughter.

“You will be careful, Inquisitor?” Josephine asked breathlessly. Bronwynn huffed sardonic laughter before turning to leave.

“I just said I plan on getting married … soonish.” She said. “I  _ will _ be coming back.” 

She took three steps out the door before Cullen wrapped his large hand around her left arm to turn her to him. She turned with a small smile and leaned into his armored chest. 

“You will return to me.” The Commander ordered softly, his voice brooking no argument. His mage tilted her head up to look into his blue eyes. 

“I promise, vhenan. I will.” She said

“Ar lath ma.” Cullen whispered for her ears alone. She smiled softly before kissing him quickly. He reluctantly let her go, standing stoically as she strode through Josephine’s office.

~*~

The few guards that had been stationed at Haven stood proud and defiant before the Darkspawn Emissary Corypheus as he howled his greatness at them. 

Their defiance sent him into a rage. He threw a blighted wind at them and summoned demons from the fade to attack. Yet these men and women of the Inquisition stood resolute before the onslaught. 

The Inquisitor and her Circle ran through the chaos, striking where they were needed as they moved through the battlefield. They quickly broke through the front line of demons to come face to face with Corypheus. 

“Pretender!” The monster exclaimed, Bronwynn snorted in derision and let loose a fireball that struck him square in the chest. This was followed by another fireball, ice and lightning as the other three mages joined. He roared in pain and anger, casting a spell that sent pieces of the Temple soaring into the sky.

They managed to keep their feet as the ground they stood on shook while it rose, then wasted no time questioning what or how. The Inner Circle kept close to the heels of their Inquisitor up the shaky paths that connected the Temple in the air. 

“Keep on him!” Bronwynn shouted just as she was hit with a line of lyrium fire. Her shields held, though she was knocked back a foot. Sera and Varric each landed solid blows into the creature, distracting him enough to end the constant stream. Vivienne and Solas cast ice spells in an attempt to freeze the Darkspawn in place while Dorian rained stones upon his head.

Corypheus shrieked in anger and threw his hands out, sending a foul smelling wind to knock the mages back. Iron Bull, Blackwall and Cassandra took advantage of his anger to flank him from three sides. Bull swung his greataxe in a whirlwind at the creature’s knees while Cassandra and the Warden shouted for the monster’s attention.

Now the tainted Tevinter Magister attempted to hit them all with his own blizzard, only to be thwarted by the Compassion Spirit who appeared from the aether to slice into him from multiple directions at once.

Corypheus shouted a word of command, slightly stunning the party. He took the time to retreat to higher ground and taunt them, fear clear in his voice. Eleven people followed, Morrigan having kept back to save her strength. They reached the next plateau of land to see the Blighted Dragon come up from underneath.

“This is my stop!” The shapeshifter shouted, leaping from the edge. A heartstopping moment passed before a golden dragon flew up from the opposite edge and rammed into the other one. 

“Clever, Inquisitor! It will not save you!” Corypheus shouted. Bronwynn’s answer was a barrage of lightning. The Magister shrieked in pain, yet managed to free himself to escape higher once again.

“How much higher does this go?” Solas shouted in wonder.

“Looks like he grabbed the apex of the Temple.” Cassandra answered while running past the elf. Bronwynn had reached the next section before them and they all stumbled to a frightened halt when they saw him attempting to use his Orb to drag her into the Fade. 

“Not this time!” Solas muttered in elven before he used the ambient fade energy around them to surround the Inquisitor in a protective bubble. She turned her face to him, their eyes meeting and she nodded her thanks. Her friends leapt back into action, once more harrying the Darkspawn Emissary before he again retreated higher. 

“So he is a coward!” The Iron Bull shouted tiredly. The others nodded their agreement as they couldn’t speak through their own exhaustion.

“Take a moment!” Bronwynn said. “The air is getting thinner, we need to acclimate.” There was a shriek of rage above them, when they looked they could see Corypheus’ dragon struggling to catch Morrigan.

The shifter would have practiced, had there been time; she wasn’t quite comfortable in her new shape. It was so much larger than she was used to being. There was also the problem of being unsure how to use her body for attacking. She was listening to both her instincts and the voices; which were helping but it wasn’t quite the same as being born into the body.

She knocked into one of the extraneous floating platforms of land, sending several large pieces raining down on the following beast. She heard it roar as at least one piece landed on it. She took a risk and stalled her flight, twisting in the air as she fell back to strike and grip the older animal with claw and fang. 

They fell through the air for an endless moment. She managed to rip several decaying scales from the other, clawing a gash deep into its underbelly. The creature shrieked and used their momentum to twist so it was now on top. Before she could disengage, it scored her underbelly. The pain shocked her into releasing the dragon and she fell to the earth, shifting back to human form after she landed. Harding rushed to her with other scouts to begin applying poultices and healing potions.

Bronwynn and the others had moved ahead, dodging the increasingly desperate attacks of the Emissary as they did. The dragon crashed landed on the new platform, narrowly missing Iron Bull and Dorian who just managed to roll out of the way instead of being crushed. 

“I hope the Witch made it.” Varric said grimly, Cassandra amazingly seconded the concern. 

“Let’s focus on what we can actually take care of.” Bronwynn replied as she threw up a domed shield to protect the others from the wounded animal’s sudden burst of flame. 

The group moved in concert to quickly take down the wounded dragon. It took a mere five minutes for them to bring the animal down enough to allow Blackwall to take the killing blow by nearly decapitating the blighted beast; putting it out of its misery.

Bronwynn’s heart seemed to pause when a strange orb of energy lifted from the now dead dragon and hovered over Blackwall for a long moment. She didn’t start breathing again until the energy flew over their heads to the Emissary that was climbing above them to the final platform. 

“Let it end here!” He cried. Fear and desperation dripping from his words.

“Yes, let it.” Bronwynn said softly before she led the charge up the ramps and partial stairways for the final fight. She waved off the Darkspawn’s first attack and followed it with her own wave of lightning. He sent her lightning back to her, which fizzled on her shields. 

Dorian, Solas and Vivienne struck the monster with their own lightning bolts. He screamed in pain and the rogues used this distraction to to take down his physical barriers to allow the fighters to pound on the creature. 

The Darkspawn teleported away, only to reappear before Vivienne and Bronwynn who drew their spirit blades and sliced into the shocked Magister. He grew more desperate with each strike of their weapons and once again teleported from the area. 

Solas and Cole stepped from their own fade cloaks as the creature reappeared. Again, the Darkspawn shrieked with desperation and rage. 

The Darkspawn thought to teleport once again, yet he met with a similar fate before he disappeared once again. This time he reappeared in the center of the ruins they were in.

“Not like this! I have walked the halls of the Golden City, crossed the ages.” He wrestled with the Orb as red lightning and blighted magics shot from it. Bronwynn scowled in anger and disgust, clenching her left hand to purposely activate the Anchor. 

“Dumat, Ancient ones. If you exist, if you have ever existed; I beseech you, aid me now!” He cried and turned to attack the redhaired mage once again.

Bronwynn met his turn with a single strike of her dragonbone staff, dislocating the pathetic creatures jaw. He fell to his knees, dropping the orb.

“Gods don’t call on other gods to give them power, Darkspawn.” Bronwynn snapped as she picked up the orb. It reacted to the Anchor and she focused the energy of the mark through the orb. 

The orb went from uncontrolled fiery red to soothing green and within a heartbeat the Breach in the sky was sealed, fully and completely. No longer was it a threat. 

Bronwynn let her intuition guide her as she switched the orb to her right hand. 

“You wanted into the fade?” She cried, opening a rift that pulled the Darkspawn Magister in. Rocks were falling around her, but she held her left hand over the orb again. She knew the others had fled when the rocks began to fall so would not see this. She wasn’t going to die and the Anchor would consume her life sooner than later if she did nothing.

Once more instinct guided her. She focused on shifting the power back into the Elven Orb, crying out in pain and blacking out as it seemed to take all she was.

She woke moments later to find Solas kneeling beside her with a wet rag on her brow. She winced at the light before her head adjusted. 

“Thank you, Inquisitor.” The older man said softly, reaching for the orb.

“You know,” she whispered regretfully. “I could kill you now and save myself the heartache later.” His narrow face rose to hers with alarm.

“What-”

“Please,  _ Fen’Harel _ ,” she interrupted. “I can read elven.” The reminder widened his eyes and he stopped breathing out of shock. 

“This is  _ your _ Orb.” she said. He nodded slowly after a moment. “You slept for how long?” she asked.

“Longer than I should have.” He answered sadly.

“So you made sure a powerful mage got your orb, to do what?” she asked him. When she began to sit up he helped her all the way to her feet, gentle with her as always.

“I wanted to bring back my world.” he admitted and she shook her head.

“You don’t even like the elves today,” she said with a humorless laugh. “You would do better to  _ teach _ them what they could  _ be _ .” His eyes held the sadness in her voice. She let him take the orb from her, then smiled sadly when he saw the Anchor was gone from her hand.

“How?” he asked incredulously.

“You aren’t the only one who enjoys the company of spirits, my friend.” she said. “Or the only one who learns from them; I just choose to be awake when I do.” She was taken aback when he laughed roughly in relief.

“I am glad,” he said “I did not want you to die.”

“Stay for a time, Solas.” she asked. “Try it my way first?” his green eyes filled as she begged. He hesitated before nodding, returning her watery smile with his own.

“Inquisitor? Are you alive?” They heard the Nevarran Seeker call and both chuckled at the irony. 

“If I weren’t, Cassandra, I wouldn’t answer!” Bronwynn responded, hooking her right arm through Solas’ left to turn him to face the rest of her Inner Circle. 

“Victorious, I see. What a novel result.” Morrigan said, still holding her stomach as she hobbled up with the others. “And the Breach,” she breathed. “Is finally closed.”

“Looks that way.” Solas replied.

“What do we do now?” Cassandra asked. For a moment they all looked around at the devastation. 

“We go back to Skyhold.” Bronwynn said.

~*~

 

Bronwynn led the uninjured forces across the bridge into the lower courtyard of Skyhold just as the sun touched the western horizon two weeks later. Sudden shouts of her title had Bronwynn stopping to look about. Inside, the people had gathered and were beginning to cheer loudly as well as chant her title. 

Varric tugged her sleeve and pointed to the landing of the stairs. There stood her Advisors and Bronwynn snorted in amusement. She made her way up to them through the crowds, clasping hands and hugging those who reached for her. She knew they needed the reassurance as well as needing to be ‘blessed’ by their Herald. 

Reaching the landing she smiled shrewdly at Leliana before shaking her hand. When Josephine curtsied the mage pulled her into a tight hug to the delight of the crowd below them.

The outcry of joy from the people of the Inquisition was deafening when their Commander wrapped their Inquisitor in his arms to kiss her. 

“Emma lath.” Cullen whispered for her ears alone, bringing a smile to her lips. 

“You do know I’m  _ not _ half elven, right?” she teased him. 

“I do, though I wouldn’t care if you were fully elven.” he laughed, turning them to face the people below. Bronwynn raised their clasped hands for them to see, bringing forth more cheers. 

She and her Advisors waited for the cheers to begin to die down before turning to head into the keep itself. 

“I found the information you asked for.” Leliana told her as they walked up.

“Good.  I’ll check it out tomorrow. He’s decided to stay with us, for now.” Bronwynn turned to look at Solas as he was surrounded by elven circle mages. “Hopefully he’s truly willing to make changes within the current system.” Leliana nodded her agreement before leaving her to face the nobles inside. 

The mage stepped forward and gave a half-bow to the assembled nobles from throughout Thedas before stepping forward into the applause. Cullen stepped forward and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into his chest. 

“I’m grateful you are safe, my love.” He said before kissing her again. She sighed and melted into him.

“I try to keep my promises.” She said against his mouth. “Can we skip the party?” she asked salaciously. His laugh shook her chest as well before he let her go, bowing to her with humor,

“Go, greet your guests. Mingle.” she sighed and leaned in to steal another kiss from her lover.

“Fine, I’ll play the game for a short bit,” she grinned wickedly at him. “Then I expect a reward for being so good.” She moved further into the Great Hall to his warm laughter.

Varric regaled an audience with exaggerated tales of her exploits while Iron Bull charmed the nobles with his exaggerated lack of sophistication. Cassandra stood stoic in the eye of Nevarrans vying for her attention, until Bronwynn stepped up to speak with her. 

Vivienne had managed to change from her armor into Circle robes, Bronwynn suspected a glamour but didn’t say anything. She found Sera sitting amongst a group of younger Orlesian nobles, easily swaying them to her views by simply outplaying them with their own word games. 

“Careful, little sister.” Bronwynn said when the youngsters had scattered at her approach. “Leliana may turn you into a Bard if you keep that up.” Sera smiled with mischief before answering.

“I’d like to see her Birdship try.” She frowned slightly then asked. “Did ya mean it?” 

“Little sister?” Bronwynn replied. When Sera nodded, hope filling her eyes Bronwynn smiled. “Of course.” Bronwynn took the Red Jenny’s hands in her own. “I hope you feel the same.” she said with her own hopefulness. The blond rogue smiled and hugged the mage tightly.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, Inky.” Bronwynn chuckled before moving on. 

Dorian stood with Gereon and Felix surrounded by Orlesian, Rivaini and Nevarran nobles discussing the Tevinter slave trade and ways of curtailing it. She was surprised when she caught sight of several Tevinter Altus stepping in to join the conversation. True they were likely lower ranked Altus amongst the Tevinter elite; but it was a hopeful sign. She caught her friend's eyes and nodded slightly to show her support. She could see his relief that he was finally able to make a start on saving his country.

“Warden Commander!” Blackwall called from his spot along the wall with Nathaniel and Bethany, as well as several other Wardens. The mage squealed and ran to hug her cousin. 

“Nathaniel and I will be heading for Weishaupt soon.” Bethany said returning the hug. “I won’t let Garrett face the Order alone.” Bronwynn nodded.

“I hope you’ll take an entire squad with you, actually.” She replied, looking to Nathaniel with raised eyebrows. His response was a laugh.

“Aye, Wynn. Two in fact, I’m not trusting that the Architect didn’t get to them before this issue with Corypheus.” he said. She sighed sadly in agreement.

“I’ll be staying, Wynn.” Blackwall said. “You’ll need the help with the remaining Wardens.” Bronwynn smiled at the man with pride. It had taken over a year for them to get here. To defeat this Darkspawn and she couldn’t be more proud of the man before her. She gave a gesture and the other Wardens dispersed, giving her and Blackwall privacy. He frowned at her in question.

“When we met, you expected me to kill you.” she said. He smiled crookedly and nodded. “I learned there was a man who was to be executed for the crimes of the recruit you lost.” she went on, he stiffened and his face went blank. 

“I wanted you to know that I had Leliana give the courts the information they needed to know that his men were innocent of the crime.” His brown eyes filled with tears. “Rainier made a horrible choice. From what I was able to learn, it seems that he was stuck between lesser evils versus truly bad.” She took her friend’s hand.

“Gordon Blackwall, you gave Thom Rainier back his honor when you recruited him.” Her green eyes bored into his brown ones, showing him how sincere she was, “Celine herself granted him and the men who have already died, posthumous pardons while granting the surviving members of his force full pardons. They can all return home and are even being allowed to be Chevaliers again.” 

Blackwall sagged against the wall in relief. It was over, his men forgiven for his mistake. Bronwynn held out a badge, one he recognized. 

“It looks like you lost your badge, Constable. I had another made for you.” she smiled as she pinned it on his armor. “I can’t very well have another ceremony for it, but wear it with pride.” She squeaked when he pulled her into a bear hug.

“Thank you.” He said with unshed tears in his voice.

Josephine caught the Inquisitor and jabbered about how she was afraid the party wasn’t good enough and Bronwynn laughingly teased her about the wine being a poor choice. The ambassador nearly had a fit before she realized she was being teased. Bronwynn held her hands up in supplication before fleeing. Cole stood surrounded by those Bronwynn suspected were Bards in training looking as if he wished to flee but wasn’t sure how to do so. 

“Cole, little brother.” Bronwynn said as she inserted herself into the group. “Solas was looking for someone to assist with an explanation of a few magical concepts.” His clear blue eyes widened in relief and he took barely enough to time to excuse himself before fleeing the clamouring group. 

Morrigan sat next to Kieran at a table filled with other children and Bronwynn laughed when she heard the Apostate mage regaling the children with stories of the Witch of the Wilds. Her retelling of the Chasind tales kept the youngsters well enthralled. The dark haired witch nodded slightly as Bronwynn passed her. 

Leliana hovered beside one of the statues along the wall, soaking in conversations around her as she had been trained to do so many years ago. 

“I hear it’s official.” Bronwynn said just loudly enough for her spymaster to hear. The older woman blushed but nodded. “Bull will be taking over then?” she asked. 

“If you trust him.” Leliana agreed. Bronwynn smiled slightly. 

“I think it’s better to keep him close.” She replied. “Besides, I think Dorian may actually be a good influence on him.” Leliana’s laugh was musical and not a few heads turned. All that saw the two redheads speaking smiled at the sight. They were quite the pretty picture.

“I won’t be leaving for a few months, at least.” Leliana went on.

“Good.” Bronwynn said. “I’d hate for him to be completely in the dark.” The two hugged and Bronwynn wandered a bit more before sneaking away to the door to her tower. 

“I hope you’re not trying to get away from me.” Bronwynn’s smile for her lover lit up the space between them better than any candle or spell. 

“I was actually hoping you had already beaten me upstairs.” She answered, slipping easily into his arms when he reached for her. 

“I waited on purpose.” He replied before lowering his head to press his lips to hers. The chaste kiss deepened to fiery passion and only broke when they heard thunderous applause from the assembled nobles. 

The Inquisitor and her Commander turned to face the crowd and bowed deeply before retreating to their quarters.

  
  


**A/N: Normally I don’t put a note at the end but I wanted to let you know there is ONE more chapter coming. I did promise a wedding. This will be the wedding of the Age!**


	49. The Wedding of the Age

#  The Wedding of the Age

9:42 Dragon

 

It was spring again. A full year after the Inquisition had defeated Corypheus and closed the Breach. Their numbers were smaller, as almost half of those that had joined in the beginning were now home with their families. 

The Chantry had given the Sunburst Throne to Leliana, naming her Victoria. 

Now the Divine stood before the throne in the Great Hall of Skyhold Keep. Benches lined the hall along walls decorated in hues of blue and green. The former spy recognized the cerulean blue as a perfect match for the Inquisition Commander’s eyes, where the green was a perfect emerald for the Inquisitor’s. 

From the rafters hung a tabard with the new coat of arms for Skyhold. A crossed sword and staff above a mountain peak. Blue above and green below with a silver mountain, it was a true representation of what the Inquisition had accomplished. 

There were dawn loti and witherstalk arrangements on the benches as well as other flower arrangements around the room. A silver carpet led from the Arboretum to the throne. 

Varric, Dorian, Cole and Blackwall led guests to their seats as they arrived, all stopped and bowed or curtsied to the Divine as she stood there. The four men were dressed in deep blues from their boots to their armor, though none carried weapons of any sort. Blackwall’s Warden armor flashed silver with his movements, Varric’s flashed green while Dorian and Cole were studies in blue and black.

Cole came forward with an older woman, white haired and gently wrinkled with eyes that Leliana would know anywhere. 

“Revka Amell.” The Divine said with pleasure, stepping down to take the elderly woman’s hands. “I am so pleased to finally meet you.” 

The woman’s green eyes widened with embarrassment. 

“You - Your Grace…” she stumbled over her words and Leliana smiled sweetly.

“Please. I wanted to let you know how grateful I am that you gave this world such a wonderful woman.” She then leaned down and gently kissed Revka’s cheek. Behind her came four others, they were all clearly Bronwynn’s siblings. Each bowed deeply to the divine before sitting beside their mother in the front row.

Blackwall brought forward another group that Leliana had already met. Cullen’s sisters and brother with their spouses who sat behind them while they occupied the front row. Mia’s oldest children would be part of the wedding party.

A gong sounded and was quickly silenced indicating that the royal parties had arrived. Divine Victoria returned to her stance before the throne. King Marcus Pentaghast of Nevarra was followed by several of Antiva’s merchant princes. 

The Free Marchers had sent Sebastian Vale, Prince of Starkhaven as their representative while the Tevinter Archon had grudgingly sent word that Alexius had been made ambassador to the Inquisition for the Imperium. Garion had sent Felix home to ensure the family was able to maximize on this.

Dorian had written Leliana with the news, knowing she would find it both funny and useful. 

Now came Celene, Empress of Orlais on the arm of Alistair Therin, King of Ferelden. The blond man led her to the empty space next to Bronwynn’s family before taking his seat across the aisle beside Cullen’s siblings. 

Silence filled the hall when the Garden door opened and Cullen Stanton Rutherford stepped out. The combined candle and mage light gleamed along the silverite inlay on his dragonbone armor. Upon his breastplate was the crossed staff and sword of his heraldry, he wore a mid length cloak of glacier blue and his breeches and boots were of the same hue. 

Following the Commander was Dorian Pavus, Gordon Blackwall and Varric Tethras. The four men strode somberly up the center aisle, though Leliana could clearly see the crooked smile and twinkling eyes of the groom.

When they had reached the raised dais they spread slightly to her left. Once more a gong sounded and all eyes turned again to the back of the room.

A small six year old girl stepped from the door to the left and her brown eyes widened in fright for a brief moment before she gave a very large sigh and stepped forward. Her dress consisted of a small corset made of lace. Along the bottom of the skirt were ruffles made of white satin. The golden hue of the dress enhanced the golden hues within her hair. 

Once she was in the center of the open aisle she took a step forward, reaching into the basket she held with one hand she pulled out a handful of rose petals. She turned her back to the audience and carefully scattered the flower petals before taking a very large step, for a little girl, back and repeating the process. She was concentrating so hard on her task she would have tripped over the stairs if her mother hadn’t called her name softly. 

“Nessa.” When she looked up she and saw where she was she turned to her Uncle and gave him a big smile. 

“I made it pretty, Unca!” She whispered as only a six year old could. Now the the room filled with laughter. She looked around with confusion before standing where she had been told to stand. 

Next was her brother, wearing a miniature version of Cullen’s armor, though it was made fully of silverite and not dragonbone. The pride on his face at being allowed to carry the rings for his Uncle and Aunt shone from his blue eyes down to his feet. He took his place beside Varric and beamed. 

Now Sera walked up the aisle, and only those who actually knew her knew this for the same elf of a year ago. She sported fresh cut hair and she looked healthier than the average elf. Her gown shared the same golden hue as little Nessa’s, but the cut was much more grown up. 

Off the shoulder under tunic made of white satin bared her neck and shoulders. The front of the skirt dropped in tiers of ruffled satin, giving the whole the look of a waterfall at sunrise. Her pale skin gleamed against the fabric giving her a slight illumination that appeared magical.

Vivienne strode behind the elf, the dark skinned Rivaini woman a stark contrast to the cream skinned elf. Their dresses were similar, although Vivienne’s didn’t have the same frothy look of the elf. 

Sera took her place as Vivienne was halfway up the aisle, followed by Cassandra Pentaghast; whose uncle happened to be in the audience. Dorian saw his friend and smiled at her with pride. 

Her sun kissed skin shone against the gold and white of the gown she wore, and her smile was pure joy. Today she was seeing two of her dearest friends married. They deserved this and all the happiness they could find after all they had been through. 

The Seeker took her place and once more the gong sounded, this time followed by chimes. Once more a hush fell over the crowd before they all rose and turned to face the back. 

The Arboretum door opened and Solas, dressed in Elven armor with an emerald green cloak stepped out back facing the crowd. Holding out his left hand he led the Inquisitor out to face the audience. 

Her red hair had been braided into a coronet upon her head; pinned with Teventer pins made of the finest gold and emeralds. A Nevarran patterned lace veil floated down her back. Half her face was painted in an intricate Rivaini design, marking her as an honored seer amongst them. Her under tunic was made of gold satin framed by a corset inlaid with blue and green emeralds. 

The skirt fell in a straight line down her legs, the pattern of blue and green matching that of her corset, a simple Ferelden pattern made from the finest of Orlesian silks.

Bare throat and shoulders except for the intricately designed necklace she had received from the Dalish just that morning. Solas waited until she looked at him and nodded to lead her slowly up the aisle between rows of people. Her emerald green eyes caught and held her mother’s for a moment before turning her gaze to her Templar. 

Bronwynn knew that today’s actions would reverberate throughout all of Southern Thedas. Cullen was well known amongst the former Templar Order, despite having left them. Indeed, those that had decided to stay with the Inquisition were now her personal bodyguards. The others had either joined the newly formed Seekers or chosen to work with Vivienne in the new College of Magi renamed The Bright Hand here within Skyholds walls. 

That he was marrying a mage had tongues wagging throughout the southern half of the continent. There were some who claimed it was blood magic at work; but mostly it was called, romantic. 

Bronwynn called it a miracle. Almost twenty years after they had first met she was finally going to take his name. 

Solas held her to a short stop, drawing her attention briefly. He raised her left hand to his lips and kissed it softly before passing her hand to Iron Bull. He smiled down at this amazing serabas; this woman who had done more than earn his respect. Through patience and conversation she had helped him see the Qun far more clearly than any of the priesthood had ever done. When he had taken position as her spymaster he knew he was ready to commit to her cause as fully as he had to the Qun; and he felt more whole than he had under the Atam.

He took her small left hand in his large right one and took up where Solas left off while the elf quietly took his place in the row. The Qunari walked her another third of the way down the aisle, this time stopping at Cole. He leaned down and pressed a kiss against her right cheek before relinquishing her hand to the Spirit.

Cole looked into her green eyes with his pale blue and smile shakily. He was still unused to everyone seeing him, but for her, he would happily stand before these strangers. 

Bronwynn squeezed his hand and he led her the rest of the way to her groom. Once there he again looked deeply into her eyes before turning to Cullen. Pale blue met sky blue for a long moment. Cullen smiled and reached out to squeeze the young man’s shoulder and nodded. 

Cole stepped back, placing his friend's hands together before addressing Leliana.

“Your Grace, Divine Victoria. I present Bronwynn Dani Amell and Cullen Stanton Rutherford.” Bronwynn’s eyes widened at the use of her middle name.  _ She _ hadn’t even known it until a few weeks ago. 

“Thank you Ser Cole of Skyhold.” Divine Victoria said with a small bow of her head. The young man bowed and returned to his seat. 

“It is my great honor to stand before these two.” Leliana’s smile was wide and true. “I was blessed by the Maker to be allowed to know you both.” She reached out for their hands which they eagerly gave her.

“Today the Maker is not ignoring His children for Andraste has called his attention to this spot. Here is a love that has endured all the hardships thrown in its path thus far; and will continue to do so. Andraste brought you together, your love an example to us all.” Leliana looked about those gathered. 

“There is no greater sacrifice one can make than those made in the name of love. Cullen Stanton Rutherford, Bronwynn Dani Amell; do either of you have anything to say?”

Cullen’s smile widened further as he looked into Bronwynn’s green eyes. 

“On the day you were given into my care, I knew my life would never be the same.” His tenor voice carried through the now silent hall. “I swore to protect you; from the mages who would hurt you, the Templars who would torment you, even the demons who would plague you.” Bronwynn’s eyes filled with tears.

“The day you left to fight the Blight was the proudest of my life then.  _ My _ mage would end the Blight through sheer dint of will.” A smattering of laughter followed.

“You agreed to be my wife during my darkest time, proving you loved more than the forbiddenness that was our relationship at that time.” He took a deep breath.

“I thank the Maker daily that you love me, and I ask again. Will you be my wife.” 

Bronwynn’s smile had turned watery and she choked back a sob to answer. 

“By Andraste, yes!” she answered emphatically.

“The rings please?” Leliana said to the youngster. He swallowed nervously but walked up the steps to hold the pillow up. Cullen ruffled the lads hair before taking the slender golden band and slipping it on Bronwynn’s shaking finger. 

Bronwynn winked at the boy as she took the thicker band. She slid the ring onto Cullen’s fingers, which were of course rock steady. 

“I promise, Bronwynn; to always be your anchor.” He said, just loudly enough for her and Leliana to hear. 

“I promise, Cullen; to always come back to you.” She answered. Leliana beamed with joy.

“I pronounce you man and wife.” She cried with joy, knowing all eyes would be on the now embracing couple she discreetly wiped away the tears that had fallen from her eyes. 

“To the assembled, I give you the Earl and Countess Rutherford of Skyhold!” She managed to get out through the sudden thickness in her throat. Cullen led Bronwynn back down the aisle followed by their attendants. Once they had made their way back into the Arboretum the gong sounded once again and the audience quickly cleared the Great Hall. 

Louden and Elena managed to wipe their own tears to begin barking orders to get the Hall prepared for the wedding luncheon while the bride and groom made themselves available for all to see and touch.

“Josie!” Bronwynn called, catching the Ambassador before she could slip away. The Antivan turned to face her friend with a deep blush on her bronze cheeks.

“Thank you.” The mage said softly and sincerely. “I appreciate  _ absolutely everything  _ you did for today.” Josephine smiled and hugged the Inquisitor.

“I could do no less for such a wonderful friend.” She replied, and Bronwynn let her escape into the keep. She knew Josephine hadn’t had much time with her love since the Inquisition had mostly disbanded.

“Bron!” Cullen called and she turned to him with a smile she was sure was permanently etched on her face and that she couldn’t be any happier.

~*~*~*~

9:43 Dragon

“Come on Curly, stop pacing. You’re wearing a rut in the rug.” Varric Tethras complained. Iron Bull began to speak when they heard yet another scream from the top of the tower. 

Bronwynn had been in labor for nearly twenty four hours and the only reason no one was in a full blown panic was that the strength of her screams had not wavered. 

Bull and Dorian had dragged their friend as far away from the bedroom as they dared to keep him from getting in Vivienne’s way, again. Varric had assured them everything was going as it was supposed to; babies came at their own time and no one was going to rush them.

It didn’t keep Baron Rutherford from gripping the hilt of his sword and swearing retribution on a certain dark skinned Grand Enchanter. 

“Cullen. Sit.” Bull finally ordered as well as pushing the blond human into one of the numerous overstuffed chairs that littered the keep. Dorian forced Cullen to hold a glass of Montilyet brandy in his sword hand.

“Where is that blasted Cole when you need him?” Cullen muttered sullenly. He had not slept since her water broke the prior morning; although she tried to convince him to. 

“She’s  _ fine _ .” Came a cultured voice, if a bit weary. “No, not yet, but her  _ spirit friend _ insisted I come and reassure you since you’re not listening to it.” Cullen tried to speak, but no words would come. The moment of shock forced him to open his mind enough to hear both spirits trying assure him at the same time. Cullen blushed in chagrin and nodded his thanks to Vivienne. 

The Rivaini mage walked over to the Baron and sat on the arm of the chair beside him, taking his untouched brandy.

“It really won’t be long now, Cullen. I promise.” She said after swallowing the contents in one gulp. She handed the glass to Dorian and returned to her post. 

She proved good to her word as within the hour there was one more long drawn out cry followed by silence. Cullen’s breath came in shallow beats until Elena came through the door from the tower holding a swaddled bundle in her arms.

“Oh, Ser! It’s a  _ girl _ !” the elf cried happily as she placed the bundle in his arms. Cullen looked into the face of his daughter and his breath stopped at the same time his heart began to pound. 

_ His _ daughter. He and Bronwynn had made this absolutely perfect little being. He sat there in awe until a thought struck him.

“Why isn’t she feeding?” He asked.

“Well, Ser…” Her explanation was cut off when he heard another pained cry from above. Elena reached out and pushed him back into the chair before he could go far.

“It appears to be twins, Ser.” Elena said. Cullen gave a short bark of disbelief. Elena carefully took his daughter from him and rushed back up the stairs. This time no one prevented the father from following. 

He entered his bedroom to find what he could only call battlefield chaos. Bronwynn had been placed in a tub to be cleaned while the bedding was changed and the infants were cleaned and swaddled. 

“Good, you can lift her from the tub and dry her off.” Vivienne commanded the blond, who gratefully obeyed as he needed something to do. 

“A boy and a girl, vhenan.” His wife of fourteen months said with pride. He smiled as he lifted her and placed her on her bath stool.

“I am pleased, my heart. But happier that you are still with me.” He admitted. She yawned and limply allowed him to dry her off.

“I’ll be back to my old self in no time.” she said, nearly falling off the stool with her exhaustion. He lifted her and took her to the newly made bed, placing her in the center. 

He waited as patiently as he could for her to feed the newborns before he took them into his own arms. 

“What shall we name them, vhenan?” Cullen contemplated a moment before placing his daughter back into her mother's arms.

“Lyna Revka Rutherford.” He said hopefully. She shook her head. 

“While I love my mother, she didn’t raise me.” Bronwynn said. “How about Lyna Wynne Rutherford.” He smiled to show his agreement. The older mage had always been very protective of his charge before and after he had come along.

“Your turn.” he said, tilting their son for her to see. 

“Alistair Gordon Rutherford.” She suggested. He frowned briefly then smiled and nodded. Had it not been for these two men he would have lost her forever. 

“Although naming him after the Ferelden king and not giving her any of Celene’s names may be an insult.” He joked.

“My daughter will be much better at the game than she, husband mine.” Bronwynn said haughtily; ruining the effect with another yawn.

“How so?” 

“She won’t need to kill to win.” She fell asleep to his warm laughter and the soft weight of her daughter on her chest.


End file.
